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GRAND RAPIDS. MICHIGAN1918

TO BE NEAR UNTO GOD1

"IT IS GOOD FOR ME TO BE NEARUNTO GOD."

When in holy ecstacy the Psalmist sings: '*!

love the Lord, because He hath heard my voice

and my supplication," he pours out his whole soul

in his song, but the love can not be analyzed.

To have love for God is a different and a muchweaker thing than to be able to say: '1 love

God." There is love for native land, for the

beauties of nature and for the creations of art.

From tenderness of heart we have love for suffer-

ing humanity. We are attracted by things that

are pure, true and of good report. And along this

hne of thought almost every honest soul can say

that he has love for God, and that this love

exceeds all other loves. Because from him and

through him all loveable things are, and He is

the highest good.

Love for God may be fine sentiment. It maybe sincere and capable of inspiring holy enthu-

siasm, while the soul is still a stranger to fellow-

ship with the eternal, and ignorant of the secret

walk with God. The great God may still not be

your God. Your heart may still not be attuned to

the passionate outburst of delight: I love the

Lord. For love of God in general is so largely

love for the idea of God. love for the Fountain of

life, the Source of all good, the Watcher of Israel

who never slumbers; in brief, love for him who,

whatever else changes, abides the same eternally.

But when the heart can say: I love the Lord, theidea of the Eternal becomes personified. Then Godbecomes the Shepherd who leads us, the Fatherwho spiritually begat us, the covenant-God to

whom we sustain the covenant relation, the Friendwho offers us friendship, the Lord whom we serve,

the God of our trust, who is no longer merelyGod, but our God.For many years we may have had love for God

in general and never have known him. He is

only known when love for him takes on a per-

sonal character; when w^e meet him in the path-way of life; when He becomes a person in con-trast with our own; when we enter into conscious,

vital and personal relation with him, so that Heis our Father and we his children; not merely oneof his children, but his child in a special way, in apersonal relation different from that of his otherchildren, even the closest relation conceivable in

heaven and on earth; He, our Father, our shep-herd, our bosom-friend and our God.He who has not entered into this can not under-

stand it. It extends farther than his reach. If,

however, he is religiously inclined, he soon real-

izes, on hearing about it, that if he might havethis love, it would be sweeter than that of whichhe is now conscious. It makes him feel that helacks something and so may arouse in him a desire

for it. It may make him crave what would be sobeautiful to possess. This craving may preparehim for better things. If there is to be contactwith God, it proceeds from both sides. God drawsnear to us, and we to him. First afar off, thencloser by, until distance falls away and we meeteach other. The blessedness of this moment can

never be told in words. We then come near untoGod, and this comprises all the blessedness of

believing.

He who has not learned this secret may saywith his lips: It is good for me to hold me fast

by God (Ps. 73:27 Prayer-Book version), but hecan not grasp it. So he passes it by as though it

meant in general a pious frame of mind apartfrom feeling the burning within of the spark of

true personal love. He worships God, he praysfor grace, but has no genuine love. But "To BeNear Unto God" means such nearness to God as

to see him with the eyes, to be aware of his

presence in the heart, to hear him with the ear,

and to have every barrier removed that thus far

kept him aloof. "To Be Near Unto God" meansto be near him in one of two ways: either to

feel as though we were caught up into heaven, or

as though God had come down to us in our lone-

liness, sorrow or joy. The very word "near"implies that there is much that separates us fromGod, and makes us solitary. When God is far

away from us and we from him, it makes usdesolate. It also implies that we are not con-tented; that we can not endure it; that our wholeheart goes out after him, and will not rest until

the last barrier is removed. For only when Godis near unto us and we are near unto him is there

blessedness again, which nothing can exceed, since

it is unspeakably good "To Be Near Unto God."This exceeding blessedness can only be enjoyed at

rare moments here, but in the life to come it shall

endure. For in the Father's house above, we shall

be near unto God forever and forever.

The world ruthlessly crosses our efforts along

this line. Though it was not right, and never canbe, we understand what went on in the heart of

those who sought escape from the world, in cell

or hermitage, for the sake of unbroken fellowshipwith God. It might have been efficacious, if in

withdrawing from the world they had been ableto leave the world behind. But we carry it in ourheart. Wherever we go it goes with us. Thereare no monastic walls so thick, or places in forests

so distant, but Satan has means to reach thSm.To shut oneself out from the world moreover, for

the sake of a closer walk with God, is to seek onearth what can only be our portion in heaven. Wemay escape many things in doing it. The eye mayno more see much vanity. But existence becomesabnormal. Life becomes narrow. Human UE.ture

is reduced to small dimensions. There is noimperative task on hand, no calling in life, noexertion of all one's powers. Conflict is avoided.Victory tarries.

But "To Be Near Unto God" in the midst ofbusy avocations yields its sweetest blessednesswhen it is cultivated in the face of sin and theworld, as an oasis in the desert of life. And theywhom the world has tried in most cruel ways todraw away from God have achieved highest honorsand blessings. In spite of obstacles and worldlyopposition they continued to have trysts withGod, Jacob at Peniel, IMoses in Horeb, Davidwhen Shimei cursed him, Paul when the peoplerose in uproar against him. In the heat of con-flict "To Be Near Unto God" is blessed.And apart from conflict with the world, the flesh

and the devil, when clouds of adversity gatheroverhead, when the heart bleeds with wound upon

wound, when the fig tree does not blossom, andthe vine will yield no fruit, then with Habakkukto rejoice in the Lord, because His blessed pres-

ence is more enjoyed in adversity than in seasonsof material prosperity,—this is the lesson of his-

tory in all ages.

But the ways of the world are cruel. Its cruel-

ties have assumed finer forms, but this refinementhas made them more intolerable. In former daysthere was much that reminded people of thesanctities of life, that made them think of higherthings, and kept eternity before their eyes. All

this is mostly gone. In the busy life of the worldtoday there is little to keep in memory the thingsthat are holy and eternal. In public life all

thought of God is ignored. In some places church-bells are no more rung. Few days of prayer areappointed. God's name is no more spoken. Nomernento mori any more reminds us of death.Cemeteries are turned into parks. Sacred thingsare scorned. That which in private conversationand in the public press gives tone to theories is

the delusion that heaven reaches no higher thanthe stars, that death ends all, that life without Godis more apt to bring prosperity than life in thefear of the Lord. The habit of doing without Godin public life puts itself as a stream between God^and the God-fearing soul. To hold fast by God,against the current of this stream, takes strongfaith.

This modern cruelty of the world offers special

dangers to our young people and children. Butlet us have courage. All things are known to God.In tender compassion He will draw near to us, andto our dear ones, that we and thej^ may be near

unto him. But in that case, satisfaction with half

measures must not be tolerated. If we do, vaguelove for a far-away God will riiore than ever fail

us. The free and untrammeled life, that joj'fully

proclaims: I love the Lord, alone can save. Forit does not remain standing afar off, but seeks

access to the immediate presence of God, in per-

sonal contact of soul with the Eternal.

"THE SOULS WHICH I HAVE MADE."

There is a peculiar charm about the thing whichwe have made. Not because of any intrinsic valueit may have, but just because we have made it.

The new beginner at the art of portrait-painting,

who practices his art by copying celebrated orig-

inals, will think more of his own copy than of themore excellent original. Flowers which the younglad plucks from his own little garden are muchmore interesting to him than the boquet from theflorist. The country gentleman prefers vegetablesfrom his own grounds or hothouse, even if less

fine, to the produce imported from abroad. Hewho writes for the press deems his own article,

published in some monthly or quarterly, the bestof the edition. This holds good in every depart-ment of life. Produce raised ourselves interests usgreatly. Cattle bred on our own stock farm is

preferred to any other. We are more happy in thehouse which we have built.

Of course, this implies some self-complacency,which especially in youth is apt to breed conceit.

We grant that preference for our own work can gotoo far, as when from sheer egotism it makes us

undervalue better works from other hands. Thisis evident in mother-joy, which revels in play withits own child, such as is impossible in play witha neighbor's child. Self-delusion and selfishness

may at times be too evident in this joy of themother heart, but history and folklore in all landsand times bear witness that there vibrates anotherstring in mother love than that of selfishness, thesound of which can only be understood when it is

recalled that she bore the child. The mother is

conscious of a part of her own life in that of herchild. The two do not stand side by side as

Nos. 1 and 2, but the mother-life extends itself

in that of her child.

This trait is evident in every product of ourown, whether of our thought, of our manual labor,

or of our perseverance. And whether it is anarticle which we contributed, or a house which webuilt, a piece of embroidery which we worked, or

a flower which we planted, a hound or a race-

horse which we raised, there is something in it of

our own, something that we put upon it, a some-thing of our very selves, of our talent, of ourinvention, which makes us feel toward it as wenever can feel toward things which are not of ourown making.And by this human trait God comforts the

hearts of sinners. This trait is in us, because it

is in God. Regarding this trait God declares thatit operates in the Divine Fatherheart in our behalf.

For where there is a soul at stake, God never for-

gets that He has made it. "For I will not contendforever, neither will I be always wroth; for thespirit should fail before me, and the souls whichI have made (Is. 57:16). As little as a mother

can allow her just anger with the child of herown bosom to work itself out to the end, just solittle can God's wrath with a soul fully exhaustitself, because He has made it. As a Father pitieth

his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear

him (Ps. 103). "Though a mother may forget

her sucking child, j^et will I not forget thee" (Is.

49:15).

The Fathername of Grod expresses this samecomforting thought. It implies not merely thathuman fathers love, and that God loves too, butthat both the love of human parents and the loveof God spring from the same source, to-wit: thatGod has created and made the soul that is in us.

That we are created after God's image implies thatGod is conscious of the relation which He sustains

to us. The High and Holy One finds somethingof himself in us, because we are his own products.As his own creatures, we are objects of his Divineinterest. There is something of God in the soul,

because He has made it. It bears the Divinestamp. There is something of God's power in it,

of his thought and creative genius, as there is in

nothing else. We are God's handiworks, no twoof which are ever exactly alike. Imagine that wewere gone, and the vast collection of the Lordwould no more be complete. From this the tie

between God and the soul is born, which makeseach of us a star in his firmament which theFather of Spirits can not afford to lose. Andtherefore the Lord seeks what is lost.

An artist who has paintings on exhibition in agallery and finds one of them gone, can not rest

until it has been traced and restored to its placeon the wall. In like manner God misses the

soul that has gone astray, because He has madeit. The beautiful parables of the lost penny, thelost sheep and the lost son sprang in the mind of

Christ from the thought that God can not let gothe works of his hands. Therefore He does notleave the souls of sinners indifferently as prey tocorruption. They are his handiwork. And this

constitutes the bitterness of sin.

If on entering the gallery one day the afore-

mentioned aitist saw that an angry intruder hadwantonly, under cover of night, cut his paintingswith a knife, his bitterness of soul would know nobounds, not merely because these paintings hadbeen destroyed as treasures of art, but as works of

his own hands. This insult has been inflicted uponGod. The soul which He has made has beeninwardly torn asunder by sin and has becomealmost irrecognizable. And as often as we yield

to sin, the soul is spoiled still further. It is everytime the continuance with uplifted hand of thework of ruining the soul, which belongs to God,because He made it.

The destruction of one's own soul, or of thesoul of his children or of others by example orwilful temptation, is always the spoiling of aDivine work of art, a creation of God, whichwounds him in his own handiwork, corruptingthe traces of himself in it. It is as though a child

is wounded and slain before his mother's eyes. It

is defiance of the maker's love for his handiwork.It is wilfully giving offense, and grieving the makerin his most sensitive point.

To him, therefore, whose heart is right, this say-ing of the Lord, "The souls which I have made,"has a two-fold meaning. First, the comforting

thought that, if we believe, God's anger with the~ soul which He has made will not continue to the

end. And, on the other hand, it implies the help-' ful warning that we should not poison the soul by-

continuance in sin, but that we should favor it,

and spare it, and shield it from corrupting influ-

ences, because it belongs to God on the groundthat He has made it. The confession that Godcreated man after his own image does not exhaustthe fulness of the thought in hand. The plummetgoes far deeper. The saving and uplifting powerof this confession is only felt when each morningis begun anew with the vivid realization of theinspiring thought that the soul in us is a workof art, made by the High and Holy One, on whichhis Honor hangs, over which therefore He watcheswith holy jealousy; and that we can not ruin it

by sm except as we commit crime against that, to

which God sustains the peculiar relation of beingits Author and Maker.Thus "The souls which I have made" does not

say anything more, save that we should realize

that . we are the children of God ; but it states it

in a more gripping way. It declares that he who"~ by sin denies his heavenly Father, violates God'shonor and grieves the Fatherheart.

"RICH IN GOD."

Jesus has appreciated the grave character of the

struggle in Jife between God and money. It maybe said that this struggle is even more violent

in Western lands than in the East, where hepreached and went about doing good, because

10

there the common necessities of life are moreeasily procured than here. The large part whichmoney plays in life is too generally ignored. Aside

from wealth and love of simplicity., life unfolds

differently when there is a free hand financially

than when hard work for sheer sustenance of self

and family must fill the hours of day. The con-

centration of every effort upon making money maysoon degenerate into sinful passion, whereby the

money-slave ignores all sense of honor; although

by itself it is natural and free from blame that

utmost pains are taken to improve financial con-

ditions. Only think of how much there is at stake

in this matter, as regards the education of the

young, our own m.oral and spiritual development,and the cause of God's kingdom in the earth.

Money is a great power, and in times of press-

ing needs the lack of it renders one painfully help-

less. Wherefore the influence of money upon anunconverted heart can not be estimated. Wheneven godly people are caught at times in the

snares of money, what must be its banal force

with those who, though they know of more ideal

aims, have never made a definite choice of Godand of his Christ. Money and Satan minglefreely in such minds, and this opens the way for

mammon. And though at first it may be tried

to keep money and mammon apart, the endeavorsoon proves futile. Money is a power in hand.

But before we know it, it soon becomes a powerover us; a power that rules over us and drawsus away ever farther and farther from high andnoble interests and makes slaves of us in the

service of mammon. Jesus foresaw all this. Hefathomed the disgrace and the shame of it. And

11

mov^ed with compassion for this 'gilded slaveryhe called the people that flocked to hear him,from money back to God.This sharp antithesis alone should inspire us to

resist the tyranny of money. When we are trulyservants of God, money will be a servant to us.

When, on the other hand, we seek protection in

our own strength from the baneful influence ofmoney, and from its strong temptation, we meetwith dismal failure. Deeming that we are our ownmaster, we find that the power of money lordsit over us. Jesus therefore puts the two kinds of

riches in contrast with each other: riches in moneyand riches in. God. Not that one excludes theother. If we are rich in God, it is nothing againstus to be rich in worldly goods. For then wewill be well aware of the fact that we are butstewards of the Almighty, and money will serv^e

both us and God. If we are rich in God and poorin earthly possessions, we will be satisfied andhappy with the higher riches of the soul. But if

a man is poor in God, worldly wealth is but vainand hollow mockery. Material riohes and sensualpleasures do not ennoble and refine the soul.

Moreover at death they fall away, if not before,

and leave the soul empty and shorn. It is harderstill to be both poor in God and in worldly goods.This provides nothing for the enlargement of life;

nothing to sustain and hold one up. It brings

bitter discontent alone, which feeds upon thevitals and robs existence, heavily freighted withcarping care, of its latest possible charm.To understand what constitutes riches in God,

imagine for a moment that all your earthly riches

had taken wings, and that bereft of all you had.

you are forgotten by those who once knew you. Inthis utter forsakeness of soul ask yourself: Whathave I left? What do I now possess? This will

be our state in the hour of death. We will go intoeternity alone. What will we take with us? We ^must leave money and houses behind. We mustpart even from our body. There will be nothingto us but the soul, our spiritual self. Shall we berich then? If so, it can only be in spiritual goods.When we die we are either rich in God or poor in

God. It will not do, therefore, to defer searchingself-examination. When I am alone with my soul,

what have I; what is there of me? Does mymoney impart to me my worth as a man, or am I

something myself? Are there treasures stored upin my heart? Apart from all material interests

has my personal self any significance worthy of

mark in God's sight, or am I actually nothing?Let us not deceive ourselves. Apart from

coveteousness it is quite possible to enlarge one's

intellectual equipment, to cultivate the aesthetic

nature, and to excel in cleverness and in achieve-ment. All this has worth of its own, and is notacquired apart from God. But it belongs to thelife of this world, and loses its significance themoment life on earth fails us. There remains of

it only so much as has imparted a higher andnobler bent to our person, and has established

and broadened our character and our spiritual

powers, and thereby has become our property,which can not be taken from us by either catas-

trophe or death.

And without more, even this will not do. Per-sonality that is well developed, character that is

firmly established, inner strength of spirit and of

13

will-power can be of use to us only when we canapply them to good and noble ends. Satan is the'most strongly developed personality conceivable.Any one can train himself in sin. Hence the ques-tion remains: Have we developed the traits ofcharacter, and powers of personality, which are in

harmony with the life of eternal blessedness? If

not, at death, they will be of no use to us. Hellis full of strongly developed characters and culti-

vated talents. But they afford no pleasure, butrather add pain to pain, because it all goes withoutGod, and increases no riches in him. Like sets of

fine sharp tools by themselves, they are utterly

useless. Thus the heart can only speak of pos-sessions, when such powers and capacities havebeen so trained that they will permit admittanceinto heaven, will make us feel at home there, andwill enable us to exert heavenly influences there.

These heavenly properties are never acquiredsave through fellowship with God. From God as

the Source, the powers of the Kingdom mustoperate in us that will entitle us to heavenlycitizenship. In Christ we must be reconciled toGod. The Father must come and dwell with us.

For then the new life will be quickened in us,

which draws its nourishment from • heaven andimparts higher powers, and fills the soul with all

the fullness of God. Thus to be rich in God is

to own God himself; to be a temple of the HolyGhost; to carry Him, the Holy and Glorious One,in the heart wherever we go; and every eveningand every morning to be refreshed in the innerman at the fountain of the Water of Life.

Many obstacles prevent the full enjoyment of

these blessings here. But this is the privilege of

14

being rich in God, that the more we becomedetached from the world, the richer we becomein God. And when at last the world shall fade fromsight, the far more exceeding and eternal weightof these riches will unfold itself to our eyes. Forthis heavenly wealth will not waste, but everincrease in glory. It will be interest upon interest

always in the very holiest sense. It will evermorebe the Fountain and never again the cistern. It

will be treasures that shall always exceed ourboldest expectations, because they are centered in

the Infinite.

In addition to all this, according to the Scrip-

ture, there is the inheritance of the saints in light.

The difference between these two is determinedby the difference between the inner and the out-ward life. The riches in God have to do with theinner life of the soul—already here in part, andpresently to be revealed in full. To this inner life

belongs an outward state. We do not have this

here. It only comes with the division of theinheritance which is stored for us in heaven; eventhe inheritance of glory, the companionship of thesaints made perfect,, and of all the holy angels.

The life in the palace of God's everlasting Light.

The fruition in glory such as here has neverentered the heart. No more sin. No more sorrow.

Eternally in Christ with God in fullest, largest

satisfaction of what in its noblest flush of anticipa-

tion the heart can expect or desire.

Rich in God, and therefore rich through God.0, how deeply have we fallen that these riches in

God attract so few hearts ; and that they who havewon these heav^enly possessions still hunger at

15

times for the things that wean the soul from Godand must needs impoverish it.

"IN THE COVERT OF THY WINGS."

The profoundest question that governs truepiety relates to personal fellowship with God. Inthe Psalms, which are the most beautiful utter-

ances of a devout mind, this Divine fellowship is

ever longed for and sought after. The tie is therementioned that binds us to God as the Creatorand Supporter of all things. The relation is therestated, which he who fears ther Lord sustains byfaith to the Holy One. But these are not fellow-

ship with the Eternal. He who fears the Lorddoes not rest until he has entered into such con-scious fellowship with Him that there is mutualknowledge between the two. Even the clear sensethat God knows him and that he knows God.

What we call friendly intercourse among men,intimate fellowship, sympathy of heart with heartin faithfulness and love, is the meaning of Ps.

25:14: "The secret of the Lord is with them that

fear him; and he will show them his covenant."As close friends on earth go through life together

and reveal themselves to each other, and in this

intimate walk become the conjEidants of eachother's secrets, so it is told of the Old Testamentheroes of the faith that "they walked with God."And although these are but figures and terms that

are borrowed from human experiences, andalthough we ought not to use them ourselves whenwe would speak of our fellowship with God except

with greatest reverence, it is equally sure that Godhas pointed them out to us for this end.

To picture this Divine fellowship the Scripture

even borrows figures from animal life. Jesus illus-

trated his tender love for Jerusalem by the figure

of the hen that gathers her chickens under herwings. David boldly declared before God that hewould not only dwell in the house of the Lordforever, but that he would even make his refuge

"in the covert of God's wings." (Ps. 61:4.) Andwhy not? Did not God put this tender expres-

sion of fellowship in the world of winged creatures

as an intimation of what moves his own Divineheart? And is not everj- suggestive and touchinginstance of loving fellowship in the life of naturea Divinely given help to make clear to us thethings which we observe and feel or only dimlysense in the mystic depths of our heart?

But even the broad creation fell short of

material along this line. Wherefore the Lord has

put still another figure before us by which to illus-

trate this intimate fellowship with himself; eventhat of dwelling together in one house. For the

house, or with nomadic tribes the tent, is not orig-

inal in the creation, but is mechanically con-

structed by human hands. With Jabal mankindfirst came upon this find, whereby the social life

of man took an incredible step forward. Thehome was foreshadowed in the creation. Jesus

pointed to the fact that foxes have holes, andbirds of the air have nests. And was it not a deepfeeling of want that expressed itself in the wordsthat He, the Son of Man, had no home * * *

indeed, no place at all of his own where to lay

his head?

17

Life can only be fully developed by our dwell-ing together under one rooftree. The family homeis the nursery of love. It is the outward encirclingwith the tie of the closer fellowship of life. Thuswe see that in Scripture the house or tent is givenus as an aid, by which fellowship with Godassumes a form and an outline that makes it

plain to us. God also has a house. And the ideaof dwelling in God's house beautifully indicates

~ the most intimate and tenderest fellowship withGod. Purposely, therefore, the tabernacle wasconstructed in the wilderness. Presently it wasperpetuated in the Temple on Mount Zion. It is

expressly stated that in Horeb God showed Mosesthe pattern of the same. Hence the Tabernacleand the Temple were a pattern of what actuallyexists in the heavens.

And in connection with this, the deep longingis constantly expressed to be privileged to dwell in

the Tabernacle of the Lord. Rather be a door-keeper in the house of God than dwell in thepalaces of the ungodly. "One thing have I desired

of the Lord, that will I seek after; that I maydwell in the house of the Lord all the days of

my life ; to behold the beauty of the Lord, and toenquire in his temple." (Ps. 27:4.)

Tabernacle and Temple, however, were not per-

manent. They only served for a time. In the

broad development of the life of faith they weretransitory. When Jesus had come, it was said:

"Woman, the hour cometh, and now is, when yeshall neither in this mountain, nor yet at Jeru-

salem, worship the Father, but when the true

worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and

18

m truth (John 4:21). This means worship with-

out symbols, without outward forms, directly

spiritually, from heart to heart. If then we are in

sympathy with David's ardent longing to dwell in

the house of the Lord, we must no longer applythis to an earthly house or visible church. Forthis only brings us back to the dispensation of

shadows. The temple of God is no more anallegorical house of wood and stone, but the great

palace of our God in the heavens. For heaven is

God's dwelling place. There is the palace of his

glory, the Tabernacle of his Majesty. When Jesusteaches us to pray: "Our Father, who art in

heaven," he detaches the soul from every materialthing, and lifts the heart on high, in order that

we should no more think of the Majesty of Godin terms of earth.

To dwell in the house of the Lord all the daysof our life means to be so vividly conscious of ourfellowship with the living God that every morn-ing, noon and night our thoughts go out to Him,that we hear his voice in the soul, that we are

aware of his holy Presence within, experience his

workings in our heart and in our conscience, andthat we carefully avoid the things which we wouldnot dare to do if God stood before us and spoketo us.

The Psalmist goes still one step further, wherebyhe clearly shows that through the shadows, the

faithful under the Old Covenant grasped the

higher reality. For he adds: "I will make myrefuge under the covert of Thy wings." It is not

enough to think of God's glory in the heavens, to

dwell in his holy temple, to walk among the

angels and the saints, who stand before the Lord.God's house will afford the opportunity for fellow-ship with him, but in it we will look for God him-self. One must live with a person in his house in

order to enjoy his company to the full. But thehouse without him is nothing. He himselfis the first interest there. Such is the case in

our search after fellowship with God. SursumCorda. Lift up your hearts. I will lift up myheart to the trysting-place of thy holiness.

Even this is not enough, nor ever can be. Tofind God we must dwell in his house. But there

"To Be Near Unto God" is the sole end and aim of

all godly desire and endeavor. To give vent to

this passionate longing David boldly exclaims: ''I

will make my refuge in the covert of Thy wings."This is communion of spirit with Spirit. It

involves the sacred touch. To perceive and to

feel, to discover and to experience that nothingseparates us any more from the Lord; that his

arms are around us, and that as it were we cleave

unto God.

This is holy ground. It is not free from dan-gers. Misapprehension can interpret this figura-

tive language literall}^, and in an unholy sense

materialize our Spiritual God. False mysticismhas shown what errors it may entail. Provided,therefore, that we are on our guard, this figure

is aboundingly rich and supremely glorious. Topossess God, and to have made fellowship with

him a realitj' in life is beautiful, provided that it

always is in Christ. We, impure and unholy, are

brought by our Savior alone, into this tender com-munion with God.

20

HE WILL REGARD PRAYER.Does the Lord regard prayer only after long

delay? Is He not omnipresent? Is not the whis-pered prayer known to Him before there is yeta word in the tongue? Can the All-Knowing Onefirst stand apart, indifferently as it were, and onlygradually perceive that we pray, before he regardswhat at first he ignores?Such is the meaning of verses 16 and 17 of

Psalm 102. The Psalmist stands outside a closeddoor. Out of the depth his prayer ascends. Butthe thorn in the flesh is not removed. The Lorddoes not hear his prayer. And the Arch-enemy,who does not pray, and who does not know God,is encouraged by Jehovah. God's covenant peopleare repulsed. God hides his face. And thePsalmist cries: "Hear my prayer, Lord, andfrom me. In the day when I call answer mespeedil}'.

This brings relief to his troubled mind. Withprophetic insight he anticipates the day when theLord will hear the prayer of his people, andinspired by this thought he exclaims: "When theLord will regard the prayer of the destitute, andnot despise their prayer, then shall all the kingsof the earth fear him."Thus the Psalmist v%-as still in that period in

which the Lord held himself deaf to his people,and in which the moment tarried when he wouldregard their prayer. And do you think that thePsalmist did not feel and know the objectionsthat are suggested by the nature of the DivineBeing against this human representation? And

21

are we so far his superior that the thoughts whicharise in us were foreign to him? Who has everoutlined God's omnipresence and omniscience in

terms of finer poetic imagery than he? Are not theexpressions in which we clothe our prayers for themost part borrowed from his writing? Did nothe propound the question: "Shall he who plantedthe ear, not hear?" And did not he confess in

Ps. 139: "There is not a word in my tongue, but,

lo, Lord, Thou knowest it altogether. Thouhast beset me behind and before. Such knowledgeis too wonderful for me ; it is high, I can not attain

unto it."

The Psalmist has described the Divine virtues

in behalf of the saints of all ages, and themysteries of the Divine Being are nowhere moreclearly set forth than in the language of his songs.

And when this eminently-saintly man frequentlyspeaks of God—also with reference to this matterof prayer—in this simple, human way, what can it

mean, save that the confidential terms of intimatehuman fellowship have the same significance in

the secret walk with God. And that there are

moments when God disregards our prayers, butwhich, praise his name, are succeeded by othermoments in which He does regard them?You believe in Christ. You believe that his

saying is true: "He that hath seen Me, has seenthe Father; and how saj^est thou then, Show usthe Father?" On bended knee j^ou cum ess mm as

your Lord and your God. But what is the incar-

nation of the word except that God became man?And what profit can this be to j^ou, unless yourealize that in Christ God has come close to j^ou

in a human way?

Before the days of the Bethlehem birth Godspoke to us in the human word, but in Christ Godis manifest in human nature. He reveals himself

to us as the son of Man. A human heart speakshere in human language and in human ways. Asthe Apostle John asserts: In Jesus they have notonly seen and heard what is God's, but havetouched, that is they have handled with their

hands, and have actually seen before their eyesthe eternal—Godlike in human manifestation andin human form. Hence the whole Christian faith

and Christian confession rests upon the clear andfirm conviction that God has not willed himseltto be lost to us in endless abstractions, but thatin our human nature, in human form and in humanlanguage he comes to us ever more closely, in

order through the medium of our human heart toestablish affectionate and full fellowship with us.

Our Lord Jesus makes no high-sounding,abstract statements of the infinite in the Eternal,

but shows us God as our Father, and calls us tobe his children, and with childlike confidence, in

a childlike way, and with childlike intimacy tohave fellowship with him. Let it be distinctly

understood that this rests on sober reality. Thatthis is not mere semblance but actual fact, since

God created us after his image. That thus, in

the face of a broad difference. Divine reality is

expressed in the human. And that, when the Wordbecame flesh, the fact that the Son of God becameMan, is directly connected with our creation after

God's image.Would we undo all this, and create a distance

between us and God which would exclude all per-

sonal fellowship, by putting a whole system of

23

abstract ideas about the immensities of God in

the place of this heart-to-heart intimacy whichcan not be cultivated with God except in a human^way? Let us leave this to philosophers who donot pray, and to theologians dry-as-dust who arenot children of their Father in heaven. But as

for us, let us love God with a devotion whichcan only express itself in childlike fellowship withhim.Moreover, in the practice of prayer we fre-

quently observe that experience confirms the wordof the Psalmist. At one time the heavens are opento us, and as we pray, angels descend and ascendto bring our petitions to the throne of grace. Whileat other times our prayers are faint, our wordsbound back as it were upon ourselves and everydoor of approach to God is closed up against us.

At one time there will be an immediate hearingand a direct answering, and at another time wefeel ourselves immured and thrown back upon our-

selves, and it seems that there is no living God to

hear us. And when the turn of the tide sets in,

and we perceive that the gate of heaven reopens,

and we feel that our prayer obtains free access to

the throne of the Almighty, then we understandfrom our own experience what the Psalmist wroteabout the blessedness of the moment in which the

Lord regarded again the prayer of the soul that

was destitute.

Is now the solution of this apparent contradic-

tion as impossible as it seems? By no means;provided we have eA^es to observe the part whichGod plays in our prayer-life. When we deem~that prayer is original with ourselves; when we donot believe that the spirit of prayer goes out in us

from God, and we imagine that God's part inour prayer only begins when he hears and answersit, then indeed we face an insoluble riddle.

But if we take it in the other, truer way, andmake it clear to our mind that God has quickenedour prayer-life and that he directs and carries it,

the matter gleams with light. The farmer sowsthe seed in the newly-ploughed furrows and leaves

it alone to do its work, and only returns to thefield when the dew of heaven and sunshine havecaused the seed to sprout and to send the bladeupward, and the corn to ripen in the ear, that hemight gather the harvest.

And such is the case in our prayer-life. OurFather who is in heaven begins it by sowing theseed of prayer in our hearts. And then followsa slow process. The praj'er-life must develop in

us. Praj-er must ripen in the soul. And only whenthis result has been obtained, and our prayer hasunfolded itself in that higher form, does theheavenly Husbandman regard the prayer-life in usand enrich it with abounding answers.Such is the case with our prayer-life taken as a

whole. Through foolish petitions we arrive atpurified prayers. Through earthly prayers wecome to those holier petitions which have beenwatered with the dew of heaven, and which scin-

tillate with light from higher spheres than ours.

But such is the case also with our individualprayers. These, too, are not unfolded and ripenedat once. They also undergo a process in the soul.

They also spring from a root and only by degreesdevelop themselves into prayers such as the Fatherin heaven expects from his children. Prayerswhich are not merely sounds in the lips but which

25

rise from the depths of the heart. Prayers whichfully harmonize with our own desires and inclina-

tions. Prayers in which not merely a passingthought, but the whole person expresses himself.

Prayers in which the soul truly pours itself outbefore the Holy One.

God allows us time for this. It can not be at

once. If he interfered at once no prayer-life couldbe developed in us, and no single prayer could besanctified in us. Weeds that grow between ourprayers must first be rooted out. Every infectuousinsect that crept in must be destroyed. Prayermust refine itself and sanctify itself and in aheavenly sense through faith must be able tomature. And therefore he leaves us to ourselves

for a time that through the fiery trial gold mayproceed from the ore.

And when at length our prayers are sufficiently

purified to be laid upon the Altar of the Almighty,then he will regard them again. And we will

thank our Father in heaven that he has broughtus to the holy school of prayer.

"HEARKEN UNTO ME, MY PEOPLE."'GIVE HEED TO ME, O LORD."

At one time it was thought that sound camefrom the throat, that its power was limited, andthat it could only make our word intelligible at

short distances. No one could hear us, nor wehim, from a greater distance than our voice could

carry. When there was anything to say, messen-

gers were sent to carry it. When writing was

26

invented, communications were carried by letters.

All this, however, is changed. By this time it

is understood that the throat has no sound of its

own, but merely enables us to occasion vibrations

in the air. And that these vibrations find anartistic instrument in the listening ear to receive

them. T\Tien we speak we transmit our thoughts

in these vibrations. They glide along air-waves to

the ear of him who listens. And through the ear

they wake the self-same thoughts in him.Such is our speech. But this was not enough.

It was discovered that apart from voice and ear,

communication could be established at far greater

distances through electricity. This was first doneby means of visible signs, and thus the telegraph

originated. But later it was found that a similar

contact of throat upon the ear could be obtainedby means of an extended metal thread. This dis-

covery gave us the telephone. And at length wehave advanced still further and intelligible com-munication is achieved independently by itself

through the air, and at distances of two or threethousand miles without telegraph or telephonewires, thoughts have been exchanged.In this wise things have become realities which

at one time were entirely unthinkable. And hewho considers how quickly these ever-more won-derful inventions have succeeded one another con-jectures that still more can be expected and thatplaying with and listening to each other at incred-ible distances will sooner or later be the commongood.

This is an aid to faith. That the Lord is simul-taneously "a God at hand" and "a God afar off"

(Jer. 23:23) expresses in the language of prophecy

27

that there are no distances with God; and thathe can speak to us and can hsten to our voice,even though heaven is his throne and we kneelhere on earth. ,Yea, even when we whisper ourprayer under breath, so that he who stands by ourside can not hear it. And faith had no otherexplanation for this than the question: ''Shall hewho planted the ear not hear? Shall he whoformed the voice not speak?" The confession wasaccepted that God is everywhere present. Andthis consisted in the fact that he is the All-

Knowing One. But there was nothing in this to

support and to carry the imagination.All this has changed. Now that it is possible for

us with all our human limitations to extend ourvoice from city to city and to make ourselves

intelligible to one another; now that we canexchange thought at a distance of many thousandsof miles without wires or any such thing ; now that

the impression is general that this is but the

beginning of an inter-communication which shall

be developed still more, we can imagine how com-munication can extend itself at length withoutlimit, and how the Lord our God who is the creator

of all these means, and has them at his disposal,

can from the Throne of his glory look down uponus and can whisper to us in the soul. And how,on the other hand also, when our voice, howeverweak, goes out to him in supplication, it can beheard by him. As regards the life of glory

among the saints in light it is ever more clear that

communion shall not only be possible from time

to time with a few, but that when once the lim-

itations of this life shall fall away and glory shall

begin, intimate communion shall be possible at

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one and the same time among and with all theredeemed of the Lord.

But even then it will all be the expression andthe working out of the fact of our- creation afterthe Divine image. It will not be just in the sameway in which God communes with us, but it willbe communion in a similar way.

That we ourselves can speak with our fellowmen at such incredible distances, brings us nearerto God in our prayer, and brings God nearer tous when he speaks to us. And the "Hearken untome, my people," followed by the prayer: "Giveheed to me, Lord," is more real to us thanbefore.

There is still another phase in our secret walkwith God, which we may call the phase of holyrapture. It springs from the indwelling of theHoly Ghost in us. As often as this indwellingoperates there is no distance. Then the Lordspeaks to us in the inner-chamber of the heart.Then we perceive his sacred presence not afar offbut at hand. And our speaking to God is theconfidential whisper as in the ear. Such is thecase at the cool of the day when the peace"which passeth human knowing" takes possessionof the heart and the sweet joy of being God'schild transports us into holy ecstacy.

But we can not deal with this now. We have inmind the man who believes, but who through sinand trial has lost in part the sense of being achild of God, and finds himself distant from Ck>d.Such spiritual conditions occur frequently withthose who are most saintly. Then it seems thatat first God does not hear us, and as though we

29

must entreat the Lord to listen again to the voiceof our supplications.

"Give heed, to me, O Lord," is the cry of himwho feels that God has paid no attention to his

prayer. In the same way when by Isaiah Godsays: ''Hearken unto me, my people," it impliesthat at first the people gave no heed to the speak-ing of the Lord. Hence both belong to the phaseof temporary estrangement, when communionbetween the soul and God has been broken bysorrow or by sin. Then the means of communica-tion must be connected again. Then in the par-lance of the telephone God rings us up, and wering up God, and thus the broken connection is

restored. Union with God, fellowship with theEternal, is the great sanctifying and protecting

power which holds us up in the midst of all sorrowand trials. Not that we are apart here on earthbelow and that in our thoughts God is confined

to heaven above, so that we can remember himon our knees but a few moments everj' day, butconstant, unbroken fellowship with Our Fatherwho is in heaven is the secret of the power of

childlike faith.

This was easier in earlier times when life wasless hurried and less busy. At present life is a

great strain on the nerves. It continually over-

whelms us with new impressions and sensations,

so that the quiet collecting of the soul before Godis ever less frequent. And it is chiefly because of

this that in these, our days, the secret walk withGod suffers loss.

But for this very reason the new inventions of

communication and interchange of thought pro-

vide a counterpoise. For they come to the help

30

of our imagination and impart more reality thanbefore to our effort to restore the broken connec-tion. And thus the finds of science become sup-

ports to our piety. They help us to hearken untoGod, and our prayer, "0 Lord, give heed to meand hear the voice of my supplication," borrowsstrength from them in our approach to the throneof grace.

7

"THAT WmCH I SEE NOT, TEACHTHOU ME."

The knowledge that we have of ourselves dif-

fers according to its source. We have acquired apart of it ourselves, another part we have receivedfrom God. When it is asked in what particularthese two parts of self-knowledge differ, call tomind that as a rule we faithfully record the goodthere is in us, while for the most part we must-have the evil that is in us pointed out to us andbrought to our remembrance by God.A child can understand this. When praise is^

offered, it is readily accepted. But a child resists'

blame. He is not conscious of wrong and lightlypasses it by. And he continues in this course untilthe conscience is awakened and God teaches himto become humble.

In later life this goes on more covertly. Inreality, however, conditions remain the same. Theheart is not carried on the sleeve as in childhoodyears. Some people succeed in hiding their innerlife from the eyes of others. No sooner, however,is the personal life disclosed to the ear of a friendbut the same result follows. A part of our self-

knowledge we have acquired ourselves. The other

part we have ignored, until through bitter experi-

ence it has been taught us by God. This differ-

ence is at times strikingly evident. For, as a rule,

we do not only fail of seeking instruction in

matters of conscience, but resist the same whenit is offered, and only consent to it when in theprovidence of God it is forced upon us. In manyinstances God is obliged—we say it reverentlyto force this self-knowledge upon people all their

lives. They simply will not learn it and in everyway they seek to forget what God shows themof themselves.But there are men and women who in all

honesty seek a clear knowledge of themselves andwho desire nothing more earnestly than to knowthe truth regarding themselves. Nathaniels, whodo not invite but shun flattery; who despise thefalse image which they see of themselves in theglass, and who can not rest until they knowthemselves as thej^ truly are. When God speaksto them in the conscience they lend him a willing

ear. They realize that God's lesson in the con-

science is a warning, and they do not fail to profit

by it. Now let higher, spiritual grace be addedto this, and the gains will still be greater. Notonly will they lend willing ears to listen when Godspeaks, but they will also study the lessons whichGod tries to impart to the conscience and attain

the high, spiritual level of the pregnant prayer:

"That which I do not see and discover in myself,

teach Thou me, my God" (Job 34:32).

These two parts of human knowledge are abroadeverywhere. All through life there is a part of

knowledge which we acquire ourselves and a part

which God brings us. To see is to observe, and

32

ordinarily we call the first part of our knowledgethat which is acquired by observation. By the

side of this there is another part of knowledgewhich man would never have acquired of himself,

and which God has taught him. This character-

izes human knowledge in general. Everywhereand in all ages man observes, gains experience,

investigates and enlarges the scope of his finds,

and in this way, among all nations, arrives at

certain knowledge of nature and of life, and turns

it into profit. In this process one nation excels

another in keener sight and finer hearing, in

greater powers of invention and perseverance, andconsequently makes greater strides in develop-

ment. But in the main all knowledge is alike. It

is founded upon that what man sees. It is

acquired by observation. It is developed bystudious thought. Such is the case with the great

inventions, in which there is always somethingmysterious; inventions which, though no one sur-

mises it at first, disclose to us almost entirely newdomains of knowledge, which unbelief attributes

to chance, but which he who believes gratefully

interprets from the Divine appointment. Thusaside from the knowledge that is obtained throughwhat w^e see, another knowledge comes to us

because God imparts it to us.

High ideals, moreover, whether in individuals

or nations, form the strongest possible motivesthat inspire the search after knowledge and truth.

He who has no sense of ideals may seek material

knowledge, but the knowledge of higher things in

human life leaves him cold and indifferent. Amoney-wolf is an adept in the knowledge that

promises gain, but what does he care for the

33

higher knowledge of the nobler elements of humanhfe? Just as little as a deaf man cares for a"Bach, or a blind man for the works of art by aRaphael or Rembrandt, x^d what apphes to indi-

viduals applies to nations. When nations fail of

ideals, they degenerate into materialism and sen-sualism, and shut themselves off from the higherlife. They make no progress themselves and cannot influence other nations for the better. Indeed,they retrograde and drag other nations down withthemselves. This can differ in one age fromanother with the same people. In the sixteenthcentury the Netherlands fostered high ideals, andexerted noble and inspiring influences upon all of

Western Europe. In the eighteenth century theydegenerated and carried no blessing to othernations in any sense.

And whether a nation is swayed by high ideals,

depends on God. When he sends forth the breath

of nobler aims and purposes upon a people, desires

are quickened after the higher ends of life, andpeople are lifted up by the knowledge of nobler

human existence. When he takes that breath

away, the understanding is dulled, and all nobler

knowledge fails. In an ideal sense God can drawa people to himself and impart something of his

own Divine life to it. And He can withdraw andleave a people alone to its own hurt. In the latter

case the loss of higher and nobler knowledge is

inexorable. And so we arrive at the same result.

By seeing and observing, a part of our knowledgeis in our own power. But the part of higher andnobler knowledge God alone can impart.

As we apply this to ourselves we see at once

that this Divinely-imparted knowledge comes by

34

no means exclusively through the conscience.

Upon a far broader scale some of it comes fromthe Divine counsel, and some from the relation

which he establishes between himself and us. Weare born of our parents and we find many things

in ourselves that remind us of them. But the

formation of our person, disposition, temper andleading inclination are his work. When we dis-

cover in ourselves a thirst after higher knowledge, --

and a susceptibility to nobler ends, the impulseborn from this is a work of the Holy Ghost in

the soul. The results of the knowledge which wehave thus acquired are not obtained by observa-tion, but by virtue of the higher impulse which hequickens and maintains in us.

Circumstances pla}^ a part in this. We mayhave a friend whose nobleness of character becomesan inspiration. We may go through certain experi-

ences, and meet cultivated and interesting peoplewho stimulate us to court higher lines of thought.We may have important duties laid upon us, highresponsibilities, or bitter griefs, wliich advance usto more than ordinary heights. And again, it

is God alone who disposes all these things in ourbehalf. But above everything else we can feel

the beginnings of a strong drawing of God in ourhearts when he leaves us no rest and weans usfrom earthly vanities, and mystically inspires uswith a sense of necessity which compels us to takedeeper interests in the higher things of life andmakes us grow and expand in them with continualrefreshings. And if this is so, it is not we whohave raised ourselves up to God, but it is Godwho has raised us up to heavenly places with him-self. This mercy may have been shown to us

35

and not to some others. And why? This is amysteiy which we can not grasp. But the fact

remains. We have two kinds of knowledge.Aside from that which is acquired by sight andobservation, there is that other and higher knowl-edge which comes to us from God.

This knowledge unfolds most beautifully in thesoul that is subject to grace. Not every regen-erate child of God advances to great heights of

learning. Some devout souls lack almost everypower of entering into the mysteries of the higherlife. Some cultivaie riiysticism along emotionallines, but continue devoid of knowledge. Otherslearn a great deal of the way of salvation, butcultivate little interest in the higher and noblerknowledge of human life. There are still others,

and this is most glorious, who are warm of heartand of a deep mystical nature, and of clear

insight into the way of Salvation, who, in additionto all this, reach the inner unfoldings, by whichtheir knowledge is extended to those nobler parts

of human understanding, which make them notmerely deeply religious, but men of high ideals.

Such people stand on the top of the mountainof God's holiness. A light above the light of the

sun dawns on their horizon. Their knowledgebecomes that of the saints made perfect. Theyare most deeply conscious of their entire depend-ence upon God and of their longing for ever

larger knowledge of him and of themselves. Andthis, their thirst, can only express itself in the

prayer: my God, aside from what I see anddiscover myself, teach Thou me. Instruct meever more in holy fellowship with Thee.

''SONGS IN THE NIGHT."

Night is a mj^stery. For most people sleep is a

going out from life, in order, in the course of

seven or eight hours, to come back to it. Whenthey fall asleep, they are gone. And when the

hour-hand on the dial points, say some seven or

more hours further on, they arise and resume their

part in life. There is at most an occasional

remembrance of a dream, but for the rest it is all

a blank. A third part of life is spent in sleep. Atthirty years of age a man has practically lived

but twenty. The remaining ten years have passedaway in unconsciousness.

But sleep serves a purpose. We retire wearyin body and mind and with new strength we arise.

As far as we know, we were inactive in sleep. Wedid not think, nor observ'e, nor will, nor work.This entire cessation of activity is the real

ordinance of night. As long as we are in healthand in full possession of our powers, and not over-burdened with cares, we sleep, undisturbed by out-ward things, in this way and in no other.

WTiy this has been so ordained, we do not know.For though we say that we become weary throughwork, that our strength is exhausted and demandsrest to recuperate, it means nothing. For at oncewe ask: WTiy this exhaustion of strength? He,after whose Image we are created, never wearies.

The heavenly hosts of angels do not sleep. Ofthe new Jerusalem we read: ''There shall be nomore night." We can imagine a being, who doesnot exhaust his strength and therefore needs nosleep. Why God appointed life for us with the

37

continual exhaustion of its powers and their

restoration by sleep remains a secret. But thoughno one understands it, this Divine ordinance hasnot gone forth without a purpose and a wise dis-

posal. Does not the Scripture say that in thenight our reins instruct us, and does not this

impart an higher significance to sleep? Undoubt-edly such was the case with David. But this is

by no means an ordinary experience. And even if

this were the case, yet for the sake of spiritual

instruction in the soul, this regularly returningperiod of seven long hours would be out of all

proportion. Only think how large a part of theday it is^irom nine o'clock in the morning until

four in the afternoon. And yet it comprises butseven hours, and these we sleep away out of everytwenty-four.

This is modified bj^ sickness, by pressing cares

or old age, three causes which either shorten, dis-

turb or delay sleep, so that a part of the night is

sleepless. By either of these causes night obtains

a different significance, but only because sleep cannot be courted, or is too much interrupted or tooearly ended. Hence dreams are not without somesignificance. Dreams can discover us to ourselves.

They can suggest helpful thoughts of life. Theycan afford us moments of fellowship with our dead,

which gives us melancholy delight. God can

reveal something to us in dreams. In spite of all

this, most dreams are forgotten on waking. Andwhen at rare times they leave a memory, nothing

but vague, vanishing and mixed images float before

the mind. Even the petition from the old evening

. song, "In sleeping let me wait on Thee; in dreams

38

be Thou my joy," does not determirie, save in

rarest instances, the content of our dreams.This does not deny, however, that without our

knowing it, and even while we sleep the Spirit of

God ministers to our spirit and builds up ourinner life. Also, in connection with this, themystery of our existence by night includes certain

effective ministries of God. But we can not dealwith them, because they go on in our uncon-sciousness. At times, on awaking, we may be ableto solve certain difficulties which troubled us thenight before, and he who fears the Lord will thankhim for this. But even then it is always a work of

God, which we do not understand, and of whichwe can only say with the Psalmist (118:23), "Thisis the Lord's doing. It is marvelous in our eyes."

Our existence by night only obtains a conscioussignificance when, through sickness, care or oldage our sleep is broken. With respect to this theScripture declares: "In the night our reins

instruct us." Says the Psalmist (77:6), In thenight I commune with mine own heart. Isaiahadds (26:9), With my soul have I desired Theein the night. And Job declares (35:10), God is

my Maker, who giveth songs in the night. Thisprovides a school of learning which we shouldtake more seriously into account. Sleeplessnessis a trying experience, which affects all of the nextday. But it is a discipline which leads either tosin or to glory. It all depends upon the mannerin which these sleepless hours are spent. If wake-fulness leads to nothing but gloomy and peevishcomplaint by day and to a rebellious turning overof self on the bed by night, it works sin. Butwhen such sleepless hours are spent in the

39

endeavor to confirm and make more real the fel-

lowship with God, the inner life of the soul is

strengthened and upbuilt. Moreover, such godly-

motions are medicine against sleeplessness itself,

while rebellious restlessness fosters and prolongsit. To fight God in such an hour makes restless-

ness, it gives rise to feelings of oppression andrenders sleep more and more impossible. Whilefellowship with God at such a time brings rest andcalm to troubled minds and sleep to weary eye-lids.

But this is only a by-product. The main point

is that a sleepless night is the time in which toseek the Lord, and to test the word of thePsalmist: "It is good for me to hold me fast byGod." The strenuous activities of life, the con-

stant noise on every side, and the absorbing occu-pations of the mind by day, hold us off andestrange us from God. But in the quiet hours of

night nothing at all diverts us. The darkness is

restful to the eyes. The stillness of night putsthe ear on the retired list. No work of any sort

engages us. Hurry has given place to calm.

Nothing, indeed, diverts. There is no one nearto trouble us or to detain us. All the conditions

are there for undisturbed fellowship with God.Such hours of night invite us, more than any other,

to enter into the sanctuary of the Most High.The midnight watch has something of Sabbathstillness about it, which is inaugurated by theevening reading of God's Word, and by the even-ing prayer, when on bended knees the soul waspoured out before God. At length we are at rest.

And now the cares and anxieties of the day musteither be resolutely put aside or we must enter

upon such close fellowsliip with God that hecarries them for us.

All this, however, is not entirely in our ownhands. It is not enough that we think of Godand make our approach to him. Communion pro-ceeds from both sides. Unless God draAvs near tous, we can have no close fellowship with him.To think: God is ever ready to wait on me, it

merely depends upon me whether or not I will

meet him, does not indicate sufficient humilityor sense of dependence. Thinking of God is notfellowship with God. True fellowship is far moredevout and far more intimately personal. And as

often as w^e have true fellowship with God, it is

a grace and a benefit for which we owe him thanks.

It is not that we are so good and so devout as tolift up our heart unto God. But it is rather

Divine Compassion that condescends to us to bless

us and to make us rich with the experience of his

presence.

If before sleep the latest feeling is one of delight

in the tenderness of the Lord, and if the first con-scious thought on aw^aking in the morning of

itself goes out after God, the gain is very great.

This makes us to be accustomed to God, and pre-

pares us for the night of the grave, when thereshall be no more interruption in our fellowship

with him.At night, on our beds, when we can not sleep,

we feel our helplessness. Much more so, indeed,than when by day garments adorn our person,

when our word makes our influence a power andwhen we labor to make or maintain our position

in life. We lie prostrate on our bed and standno longer upright. We are well nigh motionless.

41

And this very insignificance of our appearance thererenders us but the more fit to meet our Lord.And then God becomes great to us. We reahze

his saying that he is Our Maker. His faithful-

nesses present themselves to us. The arms of

everlastmg compassion support and encircle us.

Sadness of heart gives place to joy. Anxiousthoughts become calm and glad. The soul

becomes attuned to the worship of the eternal

love of God. And when his Holy Spirit thusministers to our spiritual needs and imparts his

quickening touch, the hymn of praise rises fromthe heart and with us it is literal fact that God,our Maker, giveth us songs in the night.

'T CRY, BUT THOU HEAREST NOT."To get no hearing, as one stands at the closed

door, and it is not opened, makes one anxious.

He then knocks harder, and when this brings noreply, he calls, and calls louder and louder. Andwhen still no sound is heard, and there comes noanswering voice, fear strikes the heart lest someaccident has befallen child or brother whom heknows is near.

To get no hearing, when in distress one hascalled for help, and has waited and waited for aresponse and it did not come, how often has it

turned courage into dismay.To get no hearing 1 What restlessness it brings

when fear is harbored whether it is well withchild, or brother far off, and one writes andwTites again, and no reply follows, and a telegramis sent with prepayment for an answer and noanswer comes.To get no hearing! It makes the heart faint

42

when a beloved member of the household is

seriously ill and we approach the bedside and call

the beloved by name, in a whisper first, and then

louder, till we find that the patient does not

hear us.

To get no hearing ! It is overwhelming m cases

of accident in mines or with a landslide in digging

trenches, when victims are, as it were, buried

alive, and one calls and calls again, and listens

with bated breath for some sound or answering

sign of life, and silence continues unbroken.

To get no hearing! It caused such an^dous

forebodings when, not many years ago, Martinique

was overturned by an earthquake and telegrams

were sent to the place of disaster to enquire after

conditions of things there and no telegraphic

signal was returned.

The prophets of Baal experienced this tense

anxiety on Mount Carmel when, "from morning

even until noon" they cried: 0, Baal, hear us.

And they leaped upon the Altar * * * and cut

themselves * * * with knives and lancets * * *

but lo ! there was no voice, nor any that answered.

(I. Ki. 18:26). And greater anxiety still filled the

hearts of the prophets of Baal when Elijah, from

his side, cried out: ''Hear me, Lord, hear me,"

and obtained the coveted answer, and "the fire of

the Lord consumed the sacrifice."

But the saints of God in the earth have not

alwaj's been similarlv favored. Read the com-

plaint of Asaph in Psalm 83: "0, God, keep not

thou silence; hold not thy peace—as one deaf—and be not still, God." Or consider David's

distress which he voices in Psalm 28: "Unto thee

will I cry, Lord my rock; be not silent^—or as

43

one deaf—to me ; lest if thou make as though thouhearest not, I become like them that go down into

the pit." And what is stronger still, call to mindthe Lama Sabachtani of Golgotha, echo of theprophetic complaint of Psalm 22: ''0 my God, I

cry in'the daytime, but thou hearest not; and in

the night season also I take no rest."

And this is the difference between the religious

man of the world and the devout believer onGod. We have nothing to say of the man of theworld pure and simple. He does not pray at all.

He never cries to God, and never expects ananswer. But the people of the world are not all

like this. Many are not wholly irreligious. Theystill observe religious forms. They have notwholly abandoned prayer. It is mostly, it is true,

a mere matter of habit. To say grace at the table

before one eats, a so-called ''blessing," whichconsists mainly of a ''whisper," and upon retiring

at night a short prayer of thanksgiving and sup-plication. This kind of prayer is revived in daj's

of trouble, and in moments of anxiety, .when a

loved one at home is sick unto death, or reverses

in business bring a man low. Then the religious

man or woman of the world prays and calls. Andwhen prayer brings no help, and danger is notaverted, and no answer is granted, the seeminglyfutile prayer falls heavily back upon the heartembittered by disappointment.The case is altogether different with the devout

believer on God. The saintly man of prayer seeks

his Father. From experience he knows that it is

possible here on earth to hold communion withthe Father who is in heaven. He has confident

assurance of the hidden fellowship with God.

Along the pathwaj' of life, which is sometimesrough and thorny, he knows what it is to "Walkwith God." Blessed experience has taught liim

that in this secret fellowship communion is

mutual, so that he seeks his Father, but also thatthe Father gives himself to be found of his

child. In such moments he can not say: Godis here or there, for he feels and perceives thatGod is with him. He can not prove that Godtalks to him, and j-et he hears the voice of theLord. This is not seemingly, but actually true.

It is no self-deception, but rich reality. And hefollows after the good shepherd, comforted by thestaff and the rod whithersoever they lead. Withthe religious man of the world it is mere form,devoid of heart. With the devout believer onGod it is sacred, blessed mysticism.There is discipline in this holy mysticism. Fel-

lowship with God is not only broken once in awhile, but frequently. Once there was no repre-

sentation of invisible communication. But nowthere is. since we are in touch with people thou-sands of miles away from us. Xow we can speakwith others whose faces we can not see, but whosevoice we receive in return. So far have weadvanced that telegraphy permits communicationwithout wire or any visible, tangible guidance.And now we understand how this communicationcan be disturbed, interrupted and sometimes alto-

gether broken.God's saints on earth have such mystical com-

munication with their Father who is in heaven.They have a mystical telegraph, a mystical tele-

phone, a mystical means of communication with-out wire or any material appliance. And as little

45

as a primitive man can understand our telegraphiccommunication, so little can the man of the worldimderstand the mystical fellowship of the earnest

believer on God with the Heavenly Father, who is

both far off and close by. And the believer onGod understands how this fellowship can be inter-

rupted, and even entirely broken off. For thereare times when the soul calls and seeks God, andnothing comes back; when no sign from above is

vouchsafed; when it seems that God is lost; wheneverything remains silent; when no voice comesand no answer.Why God withdraws himself at such times can

be surmised, but can never be fathomed. The cryfrom the cross: "My God, my God, why hastthou forsaken me?" holds us face to face with animpenetrable mystery. But even here surmisals

maj^ serve an end. We awake in the morning andour first thought is of God. This gives us theblessed sense of God's nearness, and as at thehand of God, we begin the day. But some othermorning this is different. We perceive nothing of

God. Our heart is not joined to the Eternal.

Pray as we may, there is no fellowship. God!hold not thyself as one deaf; why dost thou nothear me? But religion operates. The loss of

Divine fellowship makes us ver>' unhappy. Somesinful inclination of the heart has caused it. Somesecret sin has prevented it. The heart has beentroubled about many things that have excludedthe Lord from the inner life. And the loss of fel-

lowship is good. It makes us examine ourselves.

It makes us unite the heart again to fear his

name.Bodily conditions, too, may interrupt Divine

communion. A headache may depress us andprevent the mind from free utterance, or lessen

our sensitiveness. This also may act as a spurto give the body rest and calm in behalf of fel-

lowship with God.At times, hovv'ever, the failure of obtaining a

Divine hearing can not be explained from onecause or from another. We find nothing that

accuses us. And yet God withdraws himself fromus. But even then conjectures regarding the cause

do not fail us. The believer on God sometimesoverestimates his piety. He enters upon terms of

familiarity with the love of God. He loses sight

of the distance that extends between him and God.He takes it as a matter of course, as a somethingthat ought to be, that fellowship with God is his

portion. He even counts it at times as a mark of ,-

special holiness that he seeks Divine fellowship.

This can not be permitted. It makes commonwhat is, and always will be, holy grace. Experi-

ence teaches at such times that nothing strengthensand deepens the appreciation of fellowship withGod as the temporary want of it. When for longtimes the soul has had no hearing, and when at

length an answer comes from God, there enters

into this secret communion a still deeper blessed-

ness, and the soul bathes itself in the fulness of

the love of God.10

'SEEK YE MY FACE."It was common at one time for Christian people

to speak of their conversion with joyous pride. It

was said: '"At such and such a time I came to

know the Lord." Afterward this was changed.Then it was said: 'Tn such and such a way I

47

came to know nwself," or, ''I was converted thenand there;" or, "Then and there I gave myself to

Christ;" "In this wa}' or in that I found mySavior." And in whatever way it was expressed,

it always meant the narrative of personal relig-

ious experience.

Every form of expression has its own value. It

can scarcely be denied, however, that the older

way of saying, 'T have come to know the Lord,"is in nowise less accurate, profound and ferventthan the later ones. Jesus himself declared : "Andthis is life eternal, that they might know Thee(John 17:3). and in saying this he confirmed thecomplaint of Hosea (4:1) that "there is no knowl-edge of God in the land."

It must be granted, however, that with the lapse

of time the sa5'ing, "I have learned to know theLord," has not proved satisfactory, because it hascome to mean intellectual and doctrinal knowl-edge of God, apart from its mystical background.For this knowledge of God has more than onesignificance. He who knows nothing of the DivineBeing, attributes and works, can not be said toknow the Lord. But neither can he be said to

know him, who has not learned to worship himin his Holy Trinity. In connection with this,

moreover, the saj'ing of our Redeemer shouldnever be lost from sight: "No man knoweth the

Father, save the Son, and he to whom the Sonwill reveal him (Matth. 11:27). This revelation

must include, without doubt, the light that shines

forth upon us from the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

But as readily as this is granted, it is maintainedwith equal emphasis, that this does not constitute

the whole knowledge of God. True knowledge of

48

God includes a spiritual reality which far exceedsmere intellectual acumen, and which merelyemploys the abstractions of dogma and doctrine

as means by which to clarify impressions that are

received and to explain sensations of soul andinner experiences. And this has gradually beenforgotten. Knowledge of God in the abstract hasbeen retained. It has come to consist largely of

the studies of formal and doctrinal expositions.

And the man who can most cleverly explain somepoint of dogma is deemed to be best grounded in

knowledge of the Lord.This could not permanently satisfy. And so the

experience of grace in the heart has gone overinto the other extreme and mysticism has begunto interpret religion altogether, or nearly so, fromthe work of redemption by Christ, in connection,of course, with personal experience of grace. Thiswas undoubtedly^ a partial gain. This inward state

of soul warmly delights itself in the work of

Christ's redemption, and glories in the way of

salvation and is far better than a kind of Chris-tianity that merely weaves webs for itself out of

doctrinal intricacies.

But this is not yet the highest. The oldtimeworthies were far more correct when they inter-

preted the knowledge of God to be both doctrinal

and mystical. At this viewpoint God himselfwas always the central object of interest andreligion (i. e. the service of God) came to bebetter understood. As we have been created after

God's Image, it is only natural and indeed neces-

sary, that in relation to God, our experiencesshould be as nearly as possible like those whichwe have in our relation of man to man.

49

There is language in nature and in the animalworld. But human language is altogether different

and far richer, even though no word is spoken.The countenance speaks; it speaks through thefacial expression, but particularly through and bythe eye. Through the eye, as a window of thebody, we look into a man's soul. And through theeye he steps forth from his soul to look upon,examine and address us. Compared with the face

the rest of the body is dumb and inanimate.Charms, indeed, are also effected by the hand. InSouthern lands it is customary to accompany andemphasize every word with gesticulations. Inmoments of great excitement the whole body for-

sooth is tense and expressive of emotion. Ail this,

however, does not deny that the farther oneadvances in culture and self-control, the morecalm and composed the rest of the body remainsin order that the face may speak. For therebythe expression of the countenance becomes far

nobler and much finer, A rough fellow in the

street speaks with both hands and feet. A kingfrom his throne speaks with his look and majestyof face.

From this it necessarily followed that in ourspeech regarding our relation to God, "the face of

God" appeared in the foreground, and that dis-

tinctions were made in that face between whatproceeded out of his mouth, what was expressedby his eyes, and what breathes in anger fromhis nose. In the nobler sense we disclose our-

selves by meeting each other face to face. Henceof human fellowship with God it could not be said

otherwise than that the highest form of it is to

meet God face to face.

50

This can not be taken in a material sense.

Temptation leads to this and the Divine Fatherhas been pictured in the form of an old man. EvenMoses went astray in this direction when heprayed for a sight of God's face. It was a boldprayer. It brought this answer: "Thou canstnot see my face, for there shall no man see Meand live" (Exod. 33:20). This, then, is impos-sible. We should never think of our Holy Godin an earthly way. The metaphorical languagewhich is our only point of support in this matter,remains enveloped in mystical darkness. Avisible face only accompanies what is corporeal.

God is Spirit. Hence no physical features can beattributed to Him. In fact, when we look anj'-one

in the face so intently as at length to grasp, as it

were, his inner self, the external face is but themeans by which we obtain knowledge of his innerexistence. It can be imagined in the last instance

that all outwardness may fall away and the knowl-edge of the person still be retained. But it is dif-

ferent with God. Physical means do not come in

between him and us. Only as God's Spirit enters

into us can our spirit enter immediately into thespirituality of God. As a result we obtain anequally vivid, and even a better, spiritual knowl-edge of the Existence, Being and Nature of God.Hence we only use figurative language that wemight explain this knowledge.The main point is that we should no longer be

satisfied with an idea of God, and a scientific

knowledge of God, but that we should come into

touch with God himself, so that there is personalcontact vdth. him, as in and by our daily life hediscloses himself to us, and personal relationship is

51

established between the Living God and our soul.

The Scripture expresses this mystical knowledgeof God in various ways. It speaks of the ''secret

walk with God," of ''dwelling in the House of theLord," of "walking with God." And the Gospeldevelops this into the rich and glorious thoughtthat "The Father comes and tabernacles with us."

But the most commonlj^ used term for this higherknowledge is: "The face of God." The highesttribute that distinguishes Moses from all theprophets is that God "spoke with him face to

face as a man speaketh with his friend." Themeaning of "face" in this connection shows itself.

Hence when in Scripture the Lord meets uswith the exhortation, "Seek ye my face," it is

deeply significant. We can see a person afar off,

we can hear from him, we can become consciousthat he is near by without having yet gone to himor having yet placed ourselves before him, so thathe looks at us and we at him. So there are timesin the life of the Christian when he feels impelledto have no rest until he finds God; until, after hehas found Him, he has placed himself before Him

;

and standing before Him, seeks His face, and doesnot cease until he has met God's eyes, and theconsciousness dawns full and clear that God lookshim in the soul, and that he looks God in theeye of Grace. When this comes to pass, the mys-tery of grace discloses itself.

11

"MY SOLITARY ONE."

When we consider how solitude affects people,it may well be taken as a standard by which toestimate them. This is shown most strikingly in

the case of the httle child, who, on being left

alone, first becomes frightened and then begins to

cry. If less striking, with adults as a rule, court-

ing solitude or shunning it is marked with suf-

ficient clearness to suggest something of their char-

acter. Some embrace every opportunity to escapefrom busy surroundings and hide themselves in

solitude, while others feel oppressed when theyare alone, and only in company with others find

themselves again.

This shows itself in three ways. The most strik-

ing borrows its character from the choice that wasmade at the fork of the roads of good and evil.

One must needs hide himself to do wrong. Theevil One works by night. But when wrong hasbeen done and the conscience has been aroused,

solitude is oppressive and diversion is sought in

company. In a somewhat less striking way love

or dislike of solitude shows itself in the difference

between meditative or more active dispositions.

One is more inclined to live within himself in

order to think and ponder seriously. Another lives

in externals. He runs and slaves, and enjoysmaking a show of his several activities. This dif-

ference even shows itself among nations. Onepeople lives within doors, another, when possible

at all, lives in the street. In most cases this dif-

ference is accentuated by climate and settings of

nature. And finally this habit of seeking or shun-ning solitude explains itself from the consciouspossession or lack of strength. DiflBident naturesare almost afraid of the face of man and drawback with downcast eyes, while he who is clever

and full of energy mingles freely among all sorts

of people.

53

Solitude, moreover, is loved by men of study.It lures the aged more than people of midlife. Ina run-down state of health, with weakened nerves,

people shrink from excitement. But this springs

from accidental causes and is no index of char-

acter. In connection with it, however, it is sig-

nificant that the Psalmist twice calls the soul "thesolitary One." Once in Ps. 22, the Passion-Psalm,prophetic of Golgotha, v. 20: "Deliver my soul

from the sv»'ord. my solitarj- one from the powerof the dog;" and again in Ps. 35:17: "Rescue mysoul from their destructions, my solitary one fromthe young lions."

The soul is "the solitary one." This is an indexof its greatness. An only child is more precious toits parents than one of seven on which othersmay pride themselves. When this only child dies,

the family passes out of existence, and the line

of succession is cut ofif. The soul exists inde-pendently of property and of the body. Howevermuch we are attached to our belongings, their loss

can be made good. And though the body will godown into the grave, it can be restored in theresurrection. But such is not the case with thesoul. The soul is the only possession which cannot be replaced. If lost, it is lost forever. Forthis reason Jesus solemnly warns us not to fear

him who can kill the body, but rather to fear

Him who can destroy the soul. All loss can bemade good, but not the loss of the soul. Andhere your self-consciousness separates itself fromyour soul. Thou child of man, who viewest thy-self and thinkest about thyself, in the midst of

this busy world you find yourself clothed uponwith a visible body which prospers with bounding

health or wastes away with disease. But there is

something more in you, something that is hiddenin your inner being; and that hidden somethingis your soul, which you must love. For in deathyou must return it in all honor and holiness to

God who gave it.

From this the sense is developed that the soul

is solitary. There is mutual approach between thesoul and the world. We have been endowed withthe capacities of sense, which like so many win-dows, afford us outlooks upon the world, and place

us in communication with it. God imparted untous the capacity to feel and to sympathize, so thateven when we are alone we can share the feelings

of others, and at long distances of separationrejoice with those who do rejoice, and weep withthose who weep. We have received the gift of

speech whereby the soul can express itself and the

soul of another can speak in our ear. Speech hasbeen committed to writing and thanks to this won-derful invention, which likewise has been given usof God, the soul can commune with precedinggenerations and with contemporaries w^hom wehave never met. Moreover, we have a sense anda knowledge of a higher world above, which makesit seem at times as though angels of God descendedupon us, and from us ascended again. And thehighest of all is the gate of the heart throughwhich God can draw near to the soul and the soul

can go forth to God.But in spite of all this the soul itself is solitary.

It remains apart from the world, from nature, fromangels and from God. And thus by itself it is

something, it has something, which remains its

own, pure and simple, and with respect to which

55

the inner solitariness can never be broken. Andone of two things is bound to happen: Eitherthe soul may be left too solitary or its solitariness

may not be sufiBciently appreciated.

The soul is too solitary when we are bereft of

our means of support and of the sweet companion-ship of life. This is the solitariness of grief and of

forsakenness, which as burdens, weigh us downand make us afraid. For the soul is disposed to

sympathy, to friendly intercourse with the world,

to give and to win confidence, to live as manamong men, and to spread its wings in spheres of

happiness and peace. When these are withheld,

when hatred repels, and slander persecutes, instead

of love that attracts and sympathy that refreshes,

shy and shivering the soul draws back withinitself. It can not unburden itself. It can not tell

what it feels. And shut up within itself it pines

away in loneliness and grief. Again, when the

joys of life take flight, and cares make heavyhearts, when sorrow overtakes sorrow, and thehorizon narrows itself and the outlook becomesdarker and darker, and the star of hope sets

behind ever-thickening clouds—then, in distress-

ing lonehness, the soul is thrown back upon itself

and the solitary one pants for breath, and thenis the time for Satan to come in with the thoughtof suicide.

As the soul can be troubled and distressed in

this way by too much solitude, it can also suffer

loss, when as the result of superficiality, thought-lessness and want of seriousness, its solitude is notproperly estimated. At such times the soul is notknown, neither is it honored in its individual, soli-

tary and independent existence. Then the only

56

resort is endless rounds of diversion and recrea-

tion. But never a turning in upon oneself. Nevera collecting of the soul together for the sake of

quiet thought. Never a search after the soul for

its own sake. On the contrary the soul is keptin a state of constant excitement. It is held cap-

tive to serve its environments. It is never per-

mitted to rest for self-examination and for finding

inward peace.

The world at large is divided into these twogreat companies. On one hand they who are

wretched and distressed of soul and who pine awayin inner solitariness. On the other hand the

merrj^-making multitudes who are always hurried,

who are continually engaged with the art of

externalizing themselves and never have a thoughtabout their own solitary" soul.

The only medicine at hand for both these con-

ditions of soul is fellowship w^th God. For the

soul has its holy of holies as well as its holy place

and its outer court. The world does not comenearer to the soul than this outer court. Thereit remains, and has neither vision nor understand-ing of the several elements that constitute the

soul.

Intimate, spiritual friendship makes closer

approaches to the soul. There are some congenial

spirits that understand us and see more clearly

through us, and who are therefore better able, withtenderness, to sustain and to comfort us. Buteven they do not enter into the holy of holies.

There is always a deep background into whichthey can not come, and where the soul remainsin its solitariness.

He who alone can enter into this holiest and

57

most hidden recess of the soul is God by his

Holy Spirit. He alone can fully break this soli-

tariness of the soul. He alone can comfort himwho is caught in the snares of death. He alonecan save the soul of him who has long soughtdiversion in the vain pleasures of the world.

"GOD CREATED MAN AFTER HISIMAGE."

All true religion and godliness springs from thefact that we have been created after the Image of

God. Some of us have passed from the period in

the Christian life of "milk for babes" to that of

''strong meat for adults." We understand there-

fore that calling upon God and walking in theways of his laws do not by themselves constitute

true religion and godliness, and that the secret of

salvation is unveiled in all its fullness only whenwe have fellowship with the Eternal and abideunder the shadow of the Almighty.Outward forms of worship are not without value.

Provisionally they are the only thinkable ones.

Although they do not make sure of heaven, theyexert binding influences upon many thousands of

people which prevent the dissolution of society.

But the plant of spirituality outgrows at lengththe outward form and goes on, in the words of

the Apostle, unto perfection. It comes to blos-

som in the very gleam of God's majesty. It is

fostered by the outshining of his glory andwatered by the dews from above. Thus it comesto a personal knowledge of the Lord, as a manknoweth his brother; to a dwelling of the soul in

58

the tabernacle of the Lord, and to the indwelling

of the Holy One in the temple of the heart.

This requires a new emphasis. Religious formschange and pass awa}', but that which remains thesame under all skies, and which does not lose butgain in strength to the end of life, is the blessed

communion of soul with the Father of spirits, so

that by night we retire with God, and at the dawnof day we awaken with him, and that all the wayof our earthly pilgrimage we follow our goodShepherd.

Moreover, the more intimate communion of

saints consists in this alone. It surely binds heart

to heart when we learn that others hold the samefaith as ourselves, that we belong to One church,

and that together we break One bread and drink

One cup. But in the great journey through life

to the courts of everlasting light companionshipis sweetest with those who, under whatever out-

ward form, have given us intimations that they

hve in communion with God.This relates back to our creation. That is to

say, true religion and our capacity for genuine

godliness spring solely from our creation after

God's Image and after the Likeness of the

Almighty. This is not altered by the fact that

we have been conceived and born in sin. With-out regeneration there is no true religion. In this

re-birth the fundamental trait of creation after

God's Image is revived again. The fact that wehave been born in sin can therefore be passed by.

The subject in hand is conscious, actual fellow-

ship with Our Father who is in heaven. And this

' depends upon the necessary harmony which of

itself prevails between the Original and what the

image shows of it. The sodality of the Originaland the image is felt and understood at once.

One can not be an image, or image-bearer and an,

exhibitor of the same apart from the relation thatbinds him to the Original. If a picture is a goodlikeness, it is this because the original is what thelikeness shows that he is. This is more striking

with a photograph than with a painted portrait

or with a face that is cut from marble. For withthese the artist painter or sculptor comes in as thethird factor between the original and the picture.

But not so with a photograph. By the operationof light upon the sensitive plate the original heredteates his own image and forms the features after

those of his own face. And what a person makesin a photograph is an exceedingly weak imitation.

which only resembles from afar what God didwhen he said: "Let us make man after ourlikeness," and then created him so.

Intimate fellowship is only possible betweenpeople of like mind. There is fellowship of a less

intimate sort. An impressionable mind communeswith nature when she is arrayed in her beautiful

garments of spring. This fellowship with plants

and flowers is more intimate than with the starry

skies. It is closer still with the horse we ride, withthe dog that greets us joyfully at the gate, andthe lark whose morning song charms wood anddale. With stream and mountain, moon and star,

with flower and domestic animal, however, fellow-

ship is always from a distance. An animal maylook us in the face with marked expression, butwe do not understand it. Animal life is different

from our own. True fellowship only comes whenwe get in touch with man. Even as St. Paul put

60

the question to the Corinthians, "What manknoweth the things of a man, save the spirit of

man which is in him?" (1-2:11). Man alone canunderstand man. The more human we are our-selves, the more fully will we understand thetruly human in others. Of course, always withthis difference, that the more nearly we are alike,

the closer will be our communion. A compatriotcomes closer to us than a foreigner. A member of

the family, a professional colleague, a peer in

society, one whose lot and experience in life aresimilar with ours comes nearer to us than hewhose settings of life are in every way different

from our own. Like alone understands like.

The Divine saying, "Let us make man after ourimage and likeness," implied of itself thereforethe Divine intention of creating beings who wouldbe capable of Divine fellowship and who wouldbe susceptible to this glorious . communion. If,

then, all true religion consists of this mutual fel-

lowship, it follows that when God created a beingafter his likeness He thereby simultaneouslycreated religion.

God magnified his omnipotence in the works of

nature, and the more fully its early chaotic estates

refined and unfolded themselves, until the mur-mur of waters bore fruition in the note of thenightingale, the more majestic became the revela-

tion of the splendor of Divine Almightiness. Thewhole earth is full of God's glory. But there is noself-conscious and responsive fellowship betweenall this and God. God stands above nature.Nature is subject to His majesty, but it has noknowledge or understanding of God and therefor©no single note of thanksgiving, worship or com-

munion goes forth from Nature to God. There is

power in it everywhere, but there is no fellowship

of love in it.

And this is the Divine desire. God must needsaddress his creation and obtain a response from it

in return. He must needs establish close, personalfellowship and mutual communion with his crea-

tion. The eternal, knowing, loving, seekingFather desires to be known, to be loved and to

be sought. The flame of religion must inwardlygleam through the works of creation, even as in

the outward sphere the sun gleams throughout the

earth. But this is impossible and can not bethinkable, except as God creates a being after Hisown image and likeness—a being of his own gen-eration, and who therefore is a child, who will

cleave to him as Father; a being whose distance

and distinction from his infinite majesty will beunfathomably deep, but who, nevertheless, feeling

and knowing the Divine life in his own life, will

associate with God as brother with brother, andwho will thus be brought into secret and sacredcommunion with him.

Religion, therefore, is not founded upon ourcreation after the Divine Image for our sake, butfor the sake of God. Only our earnest endeavorto cultivate this hidden communion with God will

fulfill the purpose for which he created us after

his likeness. For though it is true that this

glorious distinction of our creation in the likeness

of God renders us unspeakably rich and happy,that it baptizes us into the Divine family, so that

we are children of the Most Highest, and are

thereby elevated to princely holdings in the

heavenly sanctuary, he who counts this the all

and all of this matter will utterly and dismallyfail. In this respect also that which is first in

rank and order is not what makes us happy andblessed, but that which tends to realize God'spurpose. It is his purpose to be known and to

be loved; to be sought after and to be worship-ped ; and to have the offerings of conscious, worship-ful communion with himself brought to his altars

by his Creation. His purpose is not merely to

be great, but to be known, to be praised and to

be loved as such. And, therefore, God createdman after his Image and after his Likeness.

13

"NONE OF ME."

The new paganism, which is broadly on theincrease, differs from that against which prophetsand Apostles protested, in that it has no idols.

Speaking metaphorically it has. It is properlysaid that a mother makes an idol of her child, awife of her husband. One worships his idol in

art and another in Mammon. However common,though, this manner of speech may be, the thingindicated is not idolatry proper, for this exhibits

visible idols. It builds temples and pagodas in

their behalf. It appoints priests, burns sacrifices

and orders public festivals in their honor. Ancientpaganism, with its visible idolatry, was personal.

Modern paganism soars in vague enchantments.In Paris and in London, and as report has it, in

New York, societies have been formed that assem-ble in pagan-like chapels and kneel and mutterprayers before idols. But these do not lead thenew pagan movement. For the most part thesepeople have lived for some years in pagan-

63

Asiatic countries, and upon their return imitatein Europe or America what they have seen inAsia, and in which they took part while there.

This is but a little flaw on the surface of thingsand has no significance in the great movement of

spirits.

The modern pagan movement, on the otherhand, is driven by an entirely impersonal object.

It has no thought of setting up idolatrous images.It scorns idolatry proper which is still perpetuatedin India, China and Japan. But it is negativelyimpelled by the denial of a living, personal Godand positively by doting on vague ideals, or else

on pleasure and money. This makes warfareagainst modern paganism far more difficult thanthat which Bible prophets and apostles wagedagainst the idolatry of anti"quit3^ Then name wascontrasted with name, person with person, imagewith image. Not Baal, but Jehovah. Not Jupiter,

but the Lord of hosts. Not the image of thegreat Diana, but Christ, the image of the Invisible

God. The personal character which paganismderived from visible idolatrj^ made it imperativeto set up by the side of it an equally personalobject of worship. Thus Sion was contrasted withBasan, Jerusalem with Gerizim; priest with priest.

And the living, eternal and adorable Jehovah wascontrasted with Moloch and Baal. Hence thescornful description of idols. Ears have they, butthej" hear not. Eyes have they, but they see not.

Mouths have they, but they speak not. Theywho made them are like unto them. 0, Israel,

trust thou in the Lord (Ps. 115:6).

There is nothing of this now. In our times aman dotes on humanity. Another man has a zeal

G4

for art. The higher forms of Hfe are loved andappreciated. Multitudes engage in the chase after

pleasure and wealth, and obey the dictates of

passion. By way ot reaction this has resulted in

the fact that they who in other respects are faith-

ful Christians have abandoned far too greatly the

personal element in the living God, and in turn

dote on the beautiful ideas of mercy and love, of

peace and the higher good. But personal com-munion with the personal God is no longer culti-

vated with that warmth of devotion and conse-

cration which was the secret of the heroic faith

of the fathers.

It is granted that the immortal ideal of love

and mercy indicates the essential nature of God.But the trouble is that instead of saying, "God is

love" or "love is God," one forms an idea of love

for himself, transforms this idea into an ideal,

which eclipses God from sight. And estrangedfrom the living God, one dotes on creations of

his own thought. Applying this to Christ, wereach the same result. In contrast with an imageof an idol, God has set up his Image in his

Only-begotten Son, as Christ is revealed in theflesh. This relegates ideas and ideals to the back-ground. And in the foreground, in clear andtransparent light, stands the Christ, the incar-

nated Word. All the enthusiasm with whichChristianity was carried into the world sprangfrom this heaven-wide difference. The philos-

ophers of Greece and Rome doted on beautiful

ideals. The Apostles were enthused with love for

the living Christ, the tangible Image of the living

God. The secret of their power lay in this per-

sonal attachment of faith to the living Christ in

65

vety person. It was a heart-to-heart love thatconquered the world in that early age. Love, andattachment to the Mediator between God andman, worked the downfall of ancient paganism.When St. Thomas puts his hand on the wound-print in Jesus' side, sinks to his knees andexclaims: "My Lord and my God," all the powerof personal worship of God in Christ reveals

itself. And by this alone the church of Christ

has become what it is.

This is also lost to us. First, this power wasweakened by a sentimental holding fast to Christ

as man. Thereby God, if not forgotten, wasobscured in his majesty. And now even Chris-tians put back the person of Christ, and payhomage to an ideal in Christ in order soon to

own a relation to this ideal which is stronger thanto the person of Christ himself. By admirationof the ideal the faith is demolished.This is the Lord's complaint in Asaph's Song,

Psalm 81:11: "And Israel would none of me."It could not have been expressed more personally

than this. They love my creation. They enjoythe world which I called into being. They admirethe wisdom which I have made to shine as light

in darkness. They dote on love and mercy, thefeeling and appreciation of which I implanted in

their breast. But me they leave alone. Me theyoverlook. Of me they have no thought. To methey consecrate no personal love of their heart.

With me they seek no communion. Me they donot know. Personal fellowship with me has nocharm for them. They have everything that is

mine, but they would none of me.This complaint is often overheard among us.

People will enjoy our belongings and take pleas^

ure with our goods. They will honor our ideasand adorn themselves with flowers from our gar-

den. They will praise our deeds without stint, butthey hold themselves aloof from every personaltouch. No trace of affection for us can be dis-

covered in their heart. No sympathy for us canbe observed in anything they do. They showno desire to have personal knowledge of us. Thereason for this, no doubt, in many cases, is to befound with the person himself. We can admire aman, honor him, praise his works and his life,

and yet say, "He is no man to invite personalaffection."

This, however, can not be the case with God.He alone is adorable. He is the highest Good. Heis Love. In everything He is loveable andeternally to be desired. And when in spite of all

this God complains, "They would have none of

]^e," it is directed against our heart and against

our faith. In words of deepest feeling it expressesGod's grief over our disregard of him. I aloneam He whom they should desire, and lo! theywould have none of Me. They do not love Me.With heart and soul they do not cleave to Me.To their personal affection I, their God, am notthe strong and all-else expelling center of attrac-

tion.

This is a complaint against everything that is

superficial, vague and unreal in our Christian life;

against weakened conceptions of religion; againstfaithlessness of heart. Religious weakening showsitself in lack of holy ardour, in the quenched fires

of nobler enthusiasm, and in the congealed state of

the waters of holy mysticism. This is partly a

67

personal wrong which springs from an overesti-

mate of self, from too much self-sufficiency, fromlack of dependence and fidelity. It is also an evil

of the times, a general, contagious disease where-by one poisons another. It is apostacy on the partof the world of spirits which diverts the heartfrom the living God.But this must be resisted. The struggle must

be begun against our own heart first, that it maybe restored to personal communion with the living

God. This struggle must be extended across theentire range of our environments to repress thefalse religions of vague and empty ideals, and in

their room establish personal affection for theliving God. This struggle must be continued withunfailing faithfulness in public preaching, in devo-tional literature and in ardent supplications to call

God back into our personal life. And finally this

struggle must be carried into the world at large

to call it back from idle fancies to sober reality;

from empty ideals to essentials; from religion to

the only object of worship, and from doting onbarren abstractions to the love of the faith thatdirects itself solely and alone to Him who hasrevealed himself in Christ as the personal, living

God.14

A SUN.

A little child, especially when it is a girl, is

often said to be the sunshine of the house. Buthowever glad we may be, in dark hours of life,

to own such a little sun to brighten the home,the joy of the Psalmist was far greater when hesang, "The Lord is the sun of my life." -

68

We people of Western lands should be morefamiliar with the tender and passionate languageof the poetry of Scripture. The music of thePsalter is uplifting: For the Lord God is a sunand a shield. The Lord will give grace and glory.

No good thing will He withhold from them thatwalk uprightly (Ps. §4:11). It raises grateful

echoes in the heart. But, alas, they are not orig-

inal with us. Among rich and poor we speak of

a sunshine in the house. But who volunteers toconfess from long experience : The Lord has beena Sun unto me all my days, and will be till I die.

The figure is still used, but mostly in a doctrinalway, and almost exclusively in the limited senseof "Sun of Righteousness." And righteousness hasthe emphasis at the expense of the rich imageryof the Sun. But this beautiful imagery of theSun contains a world of thought. It is more thansheer comparison. For when we realize that Godis the Sun of our life, the joy of it brings usnearer to him. It illumines all of life and lib-

erates us from abstract thoughts of him.The sun is not to us what he was to the

Psalmist in the East. The Western mind can butfaintly surmise the sparkling radiancy of Easternheavens. The firmament that overarches the landsfrom which Abraham emigrated and those whichGod gave him for an inheritance glistens with asheen of heavenly brightness which makes ourheavens at noon seem wrapped in twilight. Themidnight sky which the shepherd's saw bendingover Bethlehem was prepared, as it were, for thecoming of the angelic hosts. And in a countrywhere stars enchant the eye by their dazzlingsplendor and the moon puts the mind, as it were,

69

in a state of ecstacy, what must the sun be of

which the Psalmist sang: "His going forth is

from the end of the heaven * * * and there is

nothing hid from the heat thereof" (19:6). If

any idolatry ever was intelligible, it was not theworship of images or of spirits, but the calm andreverent adoration of the .wandering Bedouin, as

beneath such wondrous skies he beheld the stars

by night and the glory of the sun by day until

at length, swayed by ecstacy, he imagined thatthis dazzling, majestic, all-pervading and govern-ing sun was not merely a heavenly body, but evenGod him.self.

This error was con-ected in Israel. The sun is

not God. But God is the sun of the inner life.

He has appointed the sun to benefit us in a thou-sand ways, and chiefly to furnish us with a glor-

ious imagery, by which, amid the vanity andemptiness of life on earth, to set forth in glowingterms what God is to us. Comparing God withthe sun is not original with man. We have notselected the sun as a likeness of God. But thesun forecasts in nature what God is to all higherhuman life. In the sunlight and in its effects Godillustrates what He is to moral and spiritual

human nature. And when in weary processes of

analytical studies of the Divine attributes andProvidence we reach at length some well-defined

but cold abstractions, and we are past all feeling,

it seems as if the glow of the higher life suddenlytakes hold of us, when all we know of God,recapitulates itself in the single phrase of delight:

''The Lord is the Sun of my life." This sacredimagery is peculiarly effective. It puts the per-

vading power of God in our life clearly before our

70

eyes. The sun is high above us in the heavens,

and close at hand as well, and around us on every

side. We feel his presence and seek protection

from it in the shade. We exclude him from our

chambers bv closing blinds. He is a power far oft

and close by. He imparts power to the soil, where

hidden from human eyes, it makes the seed germ-

inate and sprout.

And such is the case with God, both as to opera-

tions and antithesis. His throne is high above us

in the heavens. By His omnipresence God is close

by and all around us. He has access to the heart.

He searches its most hidden parts and there

operates with secret power. Whenever a holy

seed germinates within, or a virtue blossoms on

the stem of the soul, it is God, our Sun, whose

mighty power performs it., , ,

Think for a moment that the sun were blotted

out from the skies and the whole earth would

soon resemble conditions of the North Pole.

Every plant and herb would die. Every color

w^ould pale. Snow and ice would cover the ground

as with a shroud. That such is not the case now,

that everything pulsates with bounding life and

exhibits color and sheen, that food springs from

the ground, and lilies adorn the field, and all

nature exliales the sweet breath of life is because

the sun radiates light and heat and as by magic

brings life out of death and turns barren wilder-

nesses into fruitful fields., r>. j •

And what the sun is to mother earth God is to

the human heart. If the soul were abandoned of

God and deprived of his gracious inshimng and

inworking, life would soon perish from the heart,

the affections would lose all warmth and deathly

71

cold would chill the inner existence. No moreflowers would bloom in the garden of the heart.No more sacred motion would stir the hiddenwaters of the soul. Everything within would witherand die. The heart would cease to be human, andwhether it is said, "With Thee, O Lord, is thefountain of life," or "In Thy light shall we seelight," or "The Lord is the Sun of my soul," it

all means: With God the soul has life; withoutGod it is dead. The source of all life and of all

power is God. Everything, in brief, that makesthe sun unspeakabh' precious in the world ofnature God is to the heart and tt) all human life.

With Him we are aboundingly rich and radiantlyhappy. Without Him we are poor and naked andcold.

The sun, moreover, not only nourishes theground by his warmth, but by his radiant light

exhibits and colors life. When the eveningshadows lengthen everything assumes a dull andnebulous aspect. But dawn brings friendly light,

by which all things assume proportions, distancesare measured, forms and colors are recognized.And as it takes on brightness all nature speaksto the heart. And God does all this for the innerlife. Where He is hidden from blinded eyes, life

is a somber grey, without point of departure, direc-

tion or aim. All knowledge and insight fails.

Courage to go on grows faint. Inspiration tofinish the course gives way. And nothing rests

save groping for the wall as one blind ; with-drawing within oneself in cheerless, helpless soli-

tude ; the loss of knowledge ; the loss of self-

consciousness ; the privation of color and outline.

A life as in the graveyard, where weeds thrive,

72

snakes lurk about, and the shriek of the night-

bird startles. Until God rolls the clouds away, andthe sun rises again in the soul, and when as bythe touch of a magic wand everv'thing becomesnew, and light dispels inner darkness, and peace

with a friendly hand opens wide the door of the

troubled mind, so that by the light of God'scountenance the onward way is seen with heavenly

clearness, and the journey is resumed with fresh

courage, tne wniles the sun from on high cheers

and sanctifies the heart.

The image of the sun is also significant with

respect to the fact that the shining of God's face

upon the heart is not an unbroken brightness.

As day is succeeded by night, and summer bywinter, it has ever been the same in the lives of

the saints. There were times of clear, conscious

fellowship with the Invisible, when life fromhour to hour was as a walking with God. Andthese were followed by times of overwhelmingactivities which exhausted the mind, business

interests that absorbed the soul, and cares that

burdened the heart. This is a change in the

spiritual life as of day and night. It is well with

him who can say that his estrangement from Godin every twenty-four hours is no longer than the

hours of sleep. And aside from this almost daily

rise and fall in the intimacy of the fellowship with

God, this Sun withdraws himself and again makesHis approach whereby summer and winter follow

one another in the life of the soul. Undisturbedand unbroken fellowship with God is not of this

earth. It awaits us in all its fullness only in the

realms of everlasting light. There always havebeen and always will be changes here in our

73

spiritual conditions whereby some years harvestswill be far greater than others. Struggles wherebythe soul climbs upward from lower to higher view-points—trials that bring the soul into depths of

darkness whereby for weeks and months thehigher life is buried, as it were, underneath heavylayers of ice. The sun is not gone, but is coveredwith heavy clouds. And this goes on until God'stime of help arrives. Then clouds scatter and are

driven away. Spring returns in the soul, the pre-

lude to glorious sunshine. And in the end wethank God for the cold impoverishment of spiritual

winter, which makes spring and summer all the

more appreciated and enjoyed.Another point of comparison should not be

ignored. Natural sunshine operates in two ways.It fosters and warms the ground, causing germina-tion and fruition. But it hardens the clod, it

singes leaves and withers blossoms. This touchesthe conscience. When we glory in the Lord as

the Sun of the Soul, it implies that God's loveand grace can not be abused with impunity.Hardening is an awful thing, but it came uponIsrael and is not infrequent now. When thewarmth of Divine affection is resisted, it does notsoften the heart nor make it tender, but attacksspirituality in its outward expression and sears it.

This does not mean mortal hardening from whichthere is no repentance. He whose spiritual estate

has come to this pass will not read these medi-tations. But temporary hardening retards the

progress of spiritual life. This temporary hard-ening by grace and Divine love is frequentlyobserved. It is then a sin which is cherished; it

is a sacrifice which is not willingly brought; it is

74

a step that will not be taken; it is an exertion

from which we shrink, or it is sin in somematerial direction, or in the home, in public or in

church life which we seek to harmonize with theprivileges of Divine grace. But it will not do.

In God's mind it is unthinkable. And as long as

we persist in sin the sun will shine and sometimeshis heat will be so fierce that no fruit of thespirit can ripen and the very intensity of thegrace of God will harden us. ''Thou Lord art thesun of mj^ soul," is the language of faith withwhich to enter eternity. Let us see to it that it

may not some day testify against us. "The fall

and rising again" has an application also in this

matter.15

UNDER THE SHADOW OF THEALMIGHTY.

Ever\' creature is a thought of God. All createdthings therefore are symbols of the Divine. Tohail winged creatures as symbolic expressions of

the life of God is not original with us. TheScripture sets us the example. The devout believer

is accustomed to its figurative language and hereadily admits that it greatly cheers and blesses

him. What Jesus said in these figurative termsregarding Jerusalem fell within the scope of com-mon understanding. The hen with her chickensis a symbol of divine compassion, which moveseven an outsider by its beauty and tenderness."Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often would I havegathered thy children together as a hen gatherethher chickens under her wings and ye would not"(Matt. 23:37). But this word of Jesus has a

deeper meaning than even an outsider, whoadmires it, thinks. It speaks of protection -and

compassion for the sake of which the little onesare gathered together. It implies that the chickens

belong with the mother hen. And except theyreturn to her they can not be shielded against

cold and other dangers. The striking figure indi-

cates that the natural place of refuge for the

chickens is close by the mother hen. And that

they can only be safe and warm in her immediatepresence under the cover of her outspread wings.

This striking word of our Lord was borrowedfrom the figurative language of the Old Testa-ment, which also in turn explains it. The first

verse of Psalm 91: "He that dwelleth in thesecret place of the Most High, shall abide underthe shadow of the Almighty," is an instance of

this metaphorical representation. It is theepitome of what the Psalmist describes elsewhere(61:4) : ''I will trust in the covert of Thy wings."The same thought was expressed by the wings of

the cherubim covering the mercy seat on the arkof the covenant. It is ever the same thought.God has created the fowl that lovingly gathersher brood under her wings that she might shield

and shelter them. And this beautiful figure is

held before us that we might seek refuge underthe shadow of the Almighty, and trust in thecovert of his wings.

This imagery is not borrowed from that whichmoves in the waters, nor from that which glides

along the ground. It is almost never borrowedfrom four-footed beasts, but mainly from wingedcreatures that lift themselves above the earth, andlive, as it were, between us and heaven.

76

The angels before God's throne are pictured

with wings as seraphs. The Holy Ghost cameupon the Son of Man descending like a dove.

The secret prayer of the troubled soul is that it

might have wings to fly away. That wingedcreatures should be used as symbols to express

what is most tender and affectionate in saintly

character, and that boldest imagery should serve

to portray what it is "to be near unto God," to

make it, as it were, visible to our eyes and per-

ceptible to our feelings, is entirely in keeping withthe order of creation. It corresponds to thedivinely appointed state of things. It appeals to

us as altogether natural. But this symbolismmust not be taken too literally. We must be onour guard lest sickly mysticism interprets holymysteries to us in a material way. God is

Spirit. Everj^ effort to be in touch with him,except in a purely spiritual way, avenges itself.

For it leads either to idolatry which makes animage of God from stone or precious metal, or it

loses itself in pantheistic mud, wliich inter-

mingles spirit and matter, and ends in sensualexcesses, first defiling and then killing what spirit-

uallj' began.But however necessary it is to maintain the

spirituality of our fellowship with God, it will notdo to take spirituality to mean unreality. This,

alas, is a common mistake and accounts for muchspiritual barrenness. For then we only see whatis before our eyes; nature round about us; theblue heavens above us; our body with its sev-eral parts; all which we consider real, becausethey have form, consist of matter, are tangibleand have actual existence. Apart and distin-

77

guished from this is what we think, what we pic-

ture to ourselves, what we study out in our minds,what we take as the abstract world of thought.We interpret all this to be an unreal world, thecenter of which is God. An infinite Being whoexists merely in our thought, in our mind, in ouridea, with whom there is no fellowship exceptalong the avenue of thought. But this providesno mysticism for the heart; no uniting of heartto fear the name of God; no experience of secret

fellowship with God. If God does not exist out-side of our thought, the self-sufficient soul cannot come near to God, nor can it dwell in his

tent.

Every deeply spiritual life in Holy writ protests

against this danger. Such was not what Psalmistsand prophets experienced of God. They foundHim as the real living One who came near untothem, and bare them on the arms of his ever-lasting compassions. He was a God imto themwhose love they felt as a fire burn in the marrowof their bones, with whom they found peace, com-fort and rest for their weary soul as they realized

that He sheltered them in the covert of his wingsand allowed them to abide under the shadow of

the Almighty.This thrice blessed state of mind and heart can

not be analyzed. It must be experienced. It mustbe tasted. And having it, it must be guardedlest it is lost again or interrupted. But it can notbe analyzed, interpreted or explained. Thatwould give place to the wedge of criticism andchill the warmth that fosters it. The way toobtain it is to learn that self-sufficiency deceives.

High-minded self-sufficiency is the canker which

78

gnaws at the root of all religion. It is the futile

dream of a little, insignificant world, of whichself is the great center, whose mind understandseverything, whose will controls everything, whosemoney can buy everything, and whose powercarries everything before it. This makes self aminiature god in a little temple. In this sinful

isolation one is, of necessity, icy cold, frozen awayfrom the living God and unfit to dwell under theshadow of his wings.

If in all honesty we can say: Such is not mycase, because I feel my dependence, my lack of

strength and my utter helplessness, then that wemight have fellowship with God, we must unlearnour sinful leaning on people. We need not neces-

sarily cut ourselves loose from every one. Farfrom it. The faith of another strengthens ours.

The courage of another shames us out of coward-ice. The example set by another can double ourstrength. We are disposed to society both in mat-ters of life and belief. But we must give up all

sinful dependence upon others. Dependence thattakes a man for more than an instmment ap-pointed of God for our help, as long as he allows

it, is sinful. We must not build on man, in order

when human help fails to turn to the Divine. Ourhelp must always be from God, whether power to

save springs from ourselves or comes to us fromwithout. Even in this way, that when at length all

human help fails, nothing is lost. For the

unchangeable God always remains the same.This assured confidence is maintained, as long

as we faithfully endeavor to eradicate, root andbranch, the doubt v/hich wearily makes us askwhether salvation is for us. To entertain this

doubt, even for a moment, imnen^es and breaksus down. Then we are like the little chicken thatanxiously looks around for the mother hen, andnot finding her anywhere, helplessly flies hither

and thither until snatched away by the hawk.Then all confidence is gone; and gone the percep-tion of one's calling in life; and gone the faith

that God has led us hitherto and shall lead us to

the end. Then all strength fails. And prophecyis dumb in the heart. Until at length, in despair,

fellowship with Satan becomes more natural thanthe secret walk with God.The Psalmist not only glories that he rests in

the shadow of God, but also that he hides in theshadow of the Almighty. This must needs beadded. Compared with the defenceless chicken,the mother hen, which to save her young flies thehawk in the face and chases him away, is thesymbol of a power that reminds us of DivineOmnipotence. For else resting on the Fatherheartof God avails nothing. He who rests under theshadow of God's wings, but does not trust, putsGod to shame. It but fosters the fear that onewho is stronger than God can snatch us away fromunder the Divine protection. When we are far

away from God, unbelief can be forgiven, in so far

as we fly to him for refuge. But when wehave once taken refuge with him, unbelief in theheart is a fatal wrong. It profanes the love whichGod looks for from us. The blessed peace, thehallowed rest, the childlike confidence which God'select have always enjoyed, even in seasons of

bitterest trial, is not the result of reasoning. It is

not the effect of deliverance. It is solely andalone the sweet outcome of taking refuge in the

80

secret place of the most High, of abiding underthe shadow of the Almighty, of knowing what it

means, "To Be Near Unto God," and of enjoyingit.

If then we have thus far been strangers to God,let us not imagine, that in time of danger, whenthunder-clouds have gathered thickly overhead,and all human help has failed, we ciin at once find

refuge in the shadow of the Almighty. This hasbeen tried in the hour of calamity by those of atransient faith, but the effort has proved futile.

It is here the other waj^ The secret walk withGod is not found as a means of deliverance in thehour of need. They who had found it in timesof prosperity and ease knew the wings underwhich deliverance would be sure. And when theycame to be afflicted and grieved they found rest

and safe shelter under the wings of God. It is

not the case of a hen without chickens, whichspreads her wings for whatever would hide underthem. But it is her ovm brood, which she hashatched, and for which she will risk her life, thatfinds shelter and protection with her. This states

the case of the shadow under the wings of theAlmighty. They whom he will cover with hiseternal love are his own children. These are theywhom he calls and awaits. These are they thatare known of Him. They who are at home underthe wings of God shall in the hour of danger dwellunder the shadow of the Almighty.

16

IN THE WIND OF THE DAY.

There was no violence in the displays of naturein Paradise. No other wind blew in the Garden.

81

of Eden than the soft suction of air, which mwarmer climates, occasions the morning and even-ing breeze. Hence there is no mention in thenarrative of Paradise of a sudden rise of wind, butof a fixed, periodical one, which is called "A Windof Day." And to Adam and Eve this wind of dayannounced the approach of God.This symbolism is still understood. Amidst the

luxuriant stillness of Paradise, where ever>'thing

breathes calm and peace, suddenly a soft rustle is

heard sounding through the foliage. Just such asound as we hear when, as we are seated near bya woodland, some one approaches us through the

thickets, pushing aside the light twigs and makingthe leaves tremble. At the same moment whenin Paradise that rustle is heard through the foliage,

a soft breeze plays on the forehead and it seemsthat Adam and Eve feel themselves gently touched.And with that quiet rustling and this refreshing

breeze there comes a word of the Lord to their

soul. And thus the representation arose that the

voice of the Lord came to them walking in the

garden in the wind of the day.

Thus the wind, as symbol and bearer of what is

holy, has gone forth from Paradise into all of

revelation. Of God it is said, Ps. 104:3, that he'"Walketh upon the wings of the wind;" that he'"Did fly upon the wings of the wind" (Ps. 18:10).

At Pentecost when the Holy Ghost came to thechurch a sound was heard "from heaven as of arushing mighty wind'' (Acts 2:2). And whenNicodemus received instruction regarding regen-eration, the Savior purposely applied the smybolof the wind to God the Holy Ghost. "Thouhearest the sound thereof but canst not tell

82

whence it cometh, and wither it goeth," and suchit is with the ISoly Ghost.

In Northern lands like ours, where the wind is

an ordinary phenomenon, this impression is nolonger felt so strongly. But in the countries whereRevelation had its rise and weather conditions

were more constant, which makes the rise of windmore noticeable, the sound of the wind has alwaysas of itself spoken of higher things.

Natural philosophy had not yet made a studyof atmospheric currents. As the gale arose withdark clouds in the sky, and by its rumblings madethe forests to tremble, it was interpreted as comingfrom above. It came from on high. It came as

a mysterious, inexplicable force. It was felt, butit could not be handled. It was heard, but it couldnot be seen. It was an enigmatic, intangible

power, pushing and driving everything before it.

And that power was conceived as operating

directh' from God upon man, without any middlelink, as though in the gale God with his majestybent himself over him. "The Lord," said Nahum(1:3), hath his way in the whirlwind, and theclouds are the dust of his feet."

The S3'mbol of the wind indicates the oppositeof that of the temple. For this speaks to us of

a God who dwells in us, as in a sanctuary; who is

not far off but near by; who has taken up his

abode in the heart, and who from its depthsrebukes, directs or comforts us. And so the templerepresents the indwelling of the Holy Ghost in

the Covert of the heart. It represents the candor,tenderness and intimacy of fellowship. Andthough the temple may have a veil in it, andthough at times fellowship with the indwelling

spirit may be interrupted, the renewal of lovenever comes from without, but always from thedepth of the soul. It is always Immanuel, Godwith us; in Christ with all his people; in the HolyGhost with his child.

And by the side of this is the symbol of thewind. Softly the wind of day enters Paradise. Atfirst it is not. It arises unobserved, but alwaysfrom without. It comes to man who does not at

once perceive it. At first there is separation andduality. The symbol of the wind represents manas apart from God, and God as apart from man.And the approach does not go out from man in

prayer, but from God in the wind of the day, bywhich He betakes himself to man, presses himselfupon him, and at length entirely fills him. Bothof these have their right of being. Christian pietym.ust reckon with both. He alone who allows bothof these simultaneously their full right lives in

vital communion with the Eternal.The difference between God and us is so great

in every way that of ourselves we can never thinkof God otherwise than as a Being who is highlyexalted above us. He has established his thronein heaven and we in adoration kneel on the earthas his footstool. This relation is expressed in thesymbol of the wind. From the clouds above thewind strikes down upon us and at times we feel

the cutting effects of it in the very marrow of ourbones.

There is also a free communion between Godand his child which annihilates all distance; whichabrogates every separation, which presses after

intimate union, and that relation is expressed in

the symbol of the temple. Our heart is a temple

84

of the Spirit. God himself dwells in the inner-

most recess of the soul. The temple stands for

the overvN'helming wealth of all-embracing love;

the gale remains the symbol of the Majesty of

God. And only when both of these operatepurely, each within its own domain, there is themost exalted worship of God's majesty, togetherwith the most blessed enjoyment of his eternal

Love.Thus the pendulum of the inner life of the soul

moves ever to and fro. When we have given our-selves for a time too lightly £.nd too easily to thesweetness of mysticism, and in meditative com-munion with God are in danger of losing our deepreverence for his majesty, we must needs tear

ourselves away from this hazy mood in order thatwe may the better recognize again the holysupremacy of the Lord Jehovah in comparisonwith the littleness and insignificance of our ownfinite self. And when on the other hand we havebeen for a time greatly affected by the Majestyof God, so that we know full well that the Highand H0I3- One is enthroned in glory, but feel our-selves deserted of God at heart, so that the soulis menaced w^ith the loss of a closer touch uponGod, then likewise with an effort of the will thefrozen heart must be brought under the softeninginfluences of the eternal compassions, so that com-munion with the eternal may be renewed andenjoyed again.

But great is the gain when this motion to andfro is not too forcible, and when the intimacy ofthe ''Our Father" and the reverence of the ''Whichart in Heaven" follow each other rhythmically in

the daily experiences of the inner life. A purely

85

meditative life with too much tenderness in it

will not do. He who gives himself to this weakensand enervates his spiritual nature, becomes unfit

for his Divine calling in the world, and loses eventhe exhilirating freshness of his piety. With ahealthful state of heart this change is steady andregiilar. There is the constajit and earnest appli-

cation to our work, with God above us, from whomcomes our strength, and in whom stands our help.

And then there is the search after God in prayer,

the meditation on his Word, and the inner tender-

ness which is produced by the motions of holylove. Our God is a God both far off and near at

hand.Thus the wind of the day has more than a

natural significance. Every day of life forms awhole by itself. And in all the daily happeningsthere is a plan and guidance of God. And sothere goes a wind of day through every day of

life. First there are hours when nothing speaksto the heart. When everything loses itself in ordi-

nary occupations and it seems that this day hasno message for us. And then in the simplest eventsometimes there is something striking that rouses

the attention, that makes one think and one's

thoughts to multiply; something that a child calls

out to us, or a friend whispers in the ear; some-thing that suggests itself from within or somethingthat we hear, something that was reported to us

or that happened at home or in the office ; in brief,

anything that brought color and outline into the

dullness of existence and proved itself for thatparticular day, "the wind of the day" in whichGod's voice was heard.

So the Lord goes out every day seeking after

us. So the voice of God follows us after throughall of life, to woo us, to interest us, and to win usfor Himself. Lost, therefore, is each day in whichthe voice of God passes by us in the wind of theday, but leaves us unmoved and indifferent. \^'Tiile

blessed in turn is each day in which in "'the windof the day" God comes so near to the soul that

the approach turns into communion, in theintimacy and tenderness of which with fresh

draughts we enjoy again the unfailing love of God.

17

'THOU SETTEST A PRINT UPON THEROOTS OF MY FEET."

We are always repelled in Psalm 39 by the hardwords which David there addresses to God : Lookaway from me, that I may brighten up. For canwe imagine a more unnatural prayer than this?

Man and God constitute the greatest antithesis.

And all true religion, springing from our creationafter the image of God, aims solely and alone to

put man into closest communion with God, orwhere this communion is broken, to restore it.

And here the Psalmist, who still counts as theSinger who has interpreted piety most profoundly,prays and cries, not for the approach of God, butthat God will look away from his soul, that Hewill leave him alone, give him rest, and so refreshthe last hours of his life before dying: "Hear myprayer, Lord, hold not thy peace at my tears,

look away from me, that I may brighten up,before I go hence, and be no more." (R. V. Marg.read.)

In Psalm 42 he said: "As the heart panteth

87

after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after

thee, O God," And here it is the direct opposite:''Turn thee away from me, that my soul mayrefresh itself." On the one hand intense longingfor the joy of the presence of God, and on theother hand the crs^ of agony for deliverance fromGod's presence. Does it not seem, at first, thatthe one is a malediction against the other?This bitter wail of David does not stand alone.

In the book of Job we find an even still morepainful expression for this crushing consciousnessof the presence of the Lord, when, as if to pour outhis consuming anguish in fullest measure, hedespairingly exclaims: "Thou puttest my feet in

the stocks and thou settest a print upon the rootsof my feet" (13:27 Marg. read).

By itself there is nothing strange in this feeling.

Even godless people are familiar with this agoniz-ing dread. When mortal danger suddenly over-takes them, they handle, as it were, with their

hands the power of God which presses upon them.In case of shipwreck in the open sea it is seenagain and again that godless sailors who but a fewmoments before over their wine-cups were makinglight of everything that is holy, suddenly terror-

stricken, spring from their seats with the cry:

"O God, God," and pale with fear, struggle for

their lives.

And aside from these, with ordinary people whodo not mock at religion but live without God in

the world, when serious sickness comes upon them,or some other disaster overtakes them, we see thesame effect. The}^ also suddenlj^ become awareat such a time that they have to do with theterrible unknown power of that God whom they

have long ignored, and they tremble in their

hearts.

In ordinary' life we are sufficient unto ourselves.

We extricate ourselves from our little difficulties.

We have the means at command to provideagainst special needs. We know how to rise

above simple adversities. And when they are

overcome, the triumph deepens the sense of ourself-sufficiency.

In the midst of all this we feel free, uncon-strained and unencumbered. In the face of it all

we are our own lord and master. We feel our-selves measureably opposed, but we push it aside

and bravely we continue the tenor of our way.All this, however, changes when anxieties, dan-

gers and disasters overtake us, which overwhelmus, which we have no strength to face, which noth-ing can prevent, and in the midst of which webecome suddenly aware of our utter helplessness.

Then we feel that we are attacked by a superiorforce that overpowers us, that casts us down, thatforces itself upon us and makes all resistance

ludicrous and futile. This superior force then pre-

sents itself to us as an unseen and unknownopponent, who mysteriously cuts the tendon of

our strength, binds us as with bainds of death, dis-

tresses and perplexes us with mortal agonies, andleaves us nothing but a cry of terror. And how-ever much the world has been estranged from God,even in the hearts of the most hardened sinners,

there is, in such moments, still some trembling in

the presence of the Divine majesty. There aremany who have no faith in God, but anxious fore-

bodings fill their minds, that they are yet to havedealings with him. And their self-reproach, that

they have so long ignored him, adds to the t-error

of their fears.

But this apprehension of dread affects the godlyman most strongly when faith fails him, and Godmomentarily lets him go. Then it seems that Godloosens his hold on the soul and at the same timetightens his hold more firmly on the body. Aman like Job could not think of anything that

did not come to him from God. He had longenjoyed the peace of God which passeth all under-standing. And when the evil day came and loss

followed loss, he could only consider them as so

many arrows from the bow of divine displeasure

to grieve and mortally to wound him. Andbecause Job was inwardly pious, it could not endwith this. At first he thought that God in angerstood far off, and with arrow upon arrow woundedhim from the distance. But he perceives that Godcomes to him, and at length personally attacks

him. And when he feels that God has come uponhim, as man against man, that He attacks himand is ready to throw him, his fear becomes morestriking. A tja'ant attacking Job and overcominghim in order to render him helpless, might at mostput his feet in stocks. Now that God attacks

him, this can not be the end. He perceives that

God not only faces him and attacks him fromwithout, but that by his Almighty power Godenters into his inmost soul, goes through himaltogether, until at length he feels himself pene-trated to his feet, even to the roots of his feet bythe Almighty One, and crushed beneath theweight of His anger.

Only they who are truly pious can suffer this

mortal agony. Divine anger can only be felt in

90

this way by those who all their life have been

deeply impressed by God's power. For there is a

two-fold sense of God's presence, ^ow m b essed

fellowship with God. And again in the awful con-

sciousness of God's terrible presence m the fears

that assail us. And if we were dealt w'lth after

our sins and according to our deserts, this latter

fellowship would be our only portion, even fellow-

ship with God in his holy anger. This it will for-

ever be in hell. This is hell.

Here on earth diversion and all sorts of meai^

are at our command to put the thought of God

away from us. The ungodly enjoy this awful

privilege in life that they can sm, without being

troubled in their conscience for more than a few

moments at a time by the presence of Almighty

God They can put a screen between them^selves

and God and thus be far distant from him. But

not so in eternitv. There they stand continually

in the presence of God. This awful consciousness

of God's presence will be the worm that dieth

not and the fire that is not quenched.

It is different with those who here on earth

have known what it is to be at peace with God.

They have experienced divine grace. God with-

draws himself in their behalf in such a way that

He hides his anger from them and veils his

terrible majesty. Notwithstanding their sms. Hewith himself, and without mortal fear, to have

fellowship with him. The screen of the vanities

of this world does not stand between God and

those who fear him, but Christ the Reconciler,

the Goel, the Mediator. And thus already here

on earth sweet and blessed communion with God

in Christ can be enjoyed.

91

But if momentarily faith fails us, and the shield

of Christ is taken away from before us, and in themidst of afflictions we feel ourselves suddenly face

to face again with the naked majesty of God in

his anger, the agony of soul in God's otherwisedevoted children is more terrible than the children

of the world have ever experienced on earth. Thechild of God is then caught, as it were, in thesnares of hell. Such was the case with Job. Thismade him say: "0, My God, thou settest a print

in the roots of my feet." This made David pray:"0 my God, look away from me, that I may re-

cover strength before I die." And this is grace:

that in such moments the Comforter comes to thesoul, that the shield of Christ is placed againbefore us, and that God who made his anger burnagainst us, reveals himself again to his tempest-tossed child as Abba Father.

18

"MY SHIELD."

In the Dutch national hymn the words are still

sung by patriotic assemblages and in the streets,

"My Shield and Confidence, Art Thou, O Lord,My God." And they but echo the Psalmist's song(84:11): "The Lord is a sun and shield: TheLord will give grace and glory: No good thingwill he withhold from them that walk uprightly."

As a means of defense the shield has passed outmakes it possible for them to become acquamtedof use. In our times battles are fought at great

distances, with cannons and rapid firing guns. Andsafety is sought in lying on the ground or in

hiding behind breastworks. But even when David

92

wrote the Psalms archers were few and fighting

wa5 done by man against man at the close range

of eye to eye, of foot touching foot, and clashing

of swords. And such combats could not end until

one of the two assailants was bathed in his own

blood In such times the shield was ones lite.

Without a shield no man could meet another in

battle who carried one. Among the nations of

antiquity a shield therefore was the main thing.

Even as to this day it covers the African savage

when he makes an assault with his assagai l^or

the shield catches the arrow, breaks the blow ot

the lans and parries the stroke of the sword. When

many thousands in Jerusalem, who m their day

had used the shield and had saved their lives

thereby, joined in the songs of Zion and gloried mJehovah as the shield of their confidence, they felt

in singing, as we can never fully appreciate: What

it is, and what it means, to glory in God as a

A shield was a cover for the body. It was not

carried by another in front of the combatant, but

was carried by the combatant himself. It was

held with the left hand. It rested on the arm and

was reallv nothing else than a broademng of the

same. He who attacked with a gun involuntarily

raises his arm, with which, at the risk of having

it wounded, he covers his face and his heart. And

not to expose the arm in such encounters, and to

protect the larger part of the body, desire to save

life invented the shield. First the long shield

which covered the entire length of the body, and

then the short shield, or buckler, with which to

parry the stroke of the sword. But always in such

a way that the soldier carried the shield himselt,

! 93

that he >moved it now this way, then that, andheld it out against the attack.

"The Lord is my shield" does not say thereforethat God protects us from a distance and that hecovers us without effort on our part. ''The Lordis my shield," is the language of faith. It springs

from the consciousness that God is near at hand,that faith lays hold on him, that we use our faith

in God, that therewith we resist our assailant, andthat in this wa}'-, being one with God throughfaith, we realize that we are covered with his

Almighty power.In case of extremity a mother can stand before

her child and cover her darling with her ownbodj'. And then we can say that the mother is

a shield to her child. And God is the shield of

our little ones, who do not yet know him, andwho can not yet put faith in him. But this

sacred imagers^ was not borrowed from this. It

was suggested by the soldier who in many a hardand bitter fight had used the shield himself to

the saving of his life. Indeed, the shield is to aman what wings are to an eagle. With the trained

warrior the shield is, as it were, a part of his

bod}'. It is one with his arm. And his fate hangsby his dexterit}' to use it. And so the Lord is

a shield to those who trust in him, to those whobelieve, to those who in times of distress and wantknow the use of the faith which never fails, andwho by faith understand that God directs their

arm.The shield points to battle and to the struggle

against everything that threatens to destroy us.

God is our shield against contagious disease,

against the forces of nature, and against death by

94

accident. But this does not mean that we are tosit down passively that God may cover us. Theimagery of the shield allows no such interpreta-

tion. On the contrary, that God is a shield againstdisease and pestilence, against flood and fire,

means that with the utmost of our powers wemust apply every means of resistance which Godhas placed at our command; that in prayer westeel our powers to act, and that by faith we haveGod for our shield, which we must turn againstour assailants.

This applies equally to the interests of the soul.

Weak interpretation does not cover the case. It

will not do to say that we must avoid sin. No,we must strive against it. We must understandthat in sin a hostile power attacks us; that thethinking, planning spirit of Satan lurks behindthat power; that unbeknown to us it forces itself

upon us and aims to kill the soul ; and that, unless

we have a shield to cover us, and skill to use it

dexteriously, it will surely overpower us. God is

surely more our shield in the struggle for the sal-

vation of the soul than of the body. But it meansthat we ourselves must do battle in behalf of thesoul; that we ourselves must catch the eye of the

assailant; that we must raise the sword against

him, and lift up the shield to cover the soul. ThatGod is our shield in this spiritual battle meansthat we reach out our hand after God, that weemploy every spiritual means of resistance at our

command, and that in doing so we discover that

God is the shield which by faith we hold upagainst Satan.

We speak of an escutcheon, by which we mean

95

a shield on which the man who owns it has gravedhis blazon. This is a sign of personal recog-nition for those who know him, and it

announces who hides behind it. Thus the shield

expresses the person and becomes something byitself. It becomes a personification. Great or

small powers of resistance are recognized by theshield. And in this way God is the shield of thosewho put their trust in Him. No human pride hasimaged on this shield a lion—or a bull's head. Butin deep humility, in trustful meekness, in lookingaway from self and in confidence in his heavenlyFather the man of faith puts on this shield noth-ing but the name of Jehovah. The Lord is myshield : this is holding the name of the Lord beforethe forces of nature and the powers of Satan. It

is showing the world, in characters of flame, that

we belong to the armies of the living God. Thatwe do not fight alone by ourselves, but that theHero, who leads us, is the anointed of the Lord.And thereby we proclaim that the highest powerof every human soul is ours, even the invincible

power of faith.

Thus we see that this Scriptural imagery is

deeply significant. We already saw it in the con-fession, that the Lord is the Sun of our life. Buthere we see that God is our shield and ourbuckler in the fight for the saving of our life. Wealso learn that it does not mean anything to say:

God is my shield. But that the great thing is that

io every time of need and in every hour of battle

this holy shield is not left hanging on the wall,

but that it is put to use by a living, zealous andan heroic faith.

19

''IMMANUEL."

Nothing is quite so much of an obstacle in the

way of communion with God as the saying of

Jesus to the Samaritan woman at Sychar: "Godis a Spirit, and they that worship him mustworship him in spirit and in truth" (John 4:24).

Our representations and thoughts begin with whatwe see and hear, smell and taste, but we have nohold on things that can not be seen and handled.

If in spite of this we want to talk of them andimagine what they are like, we can but comparethings unseen with things seen. We knowthat we have a soul, but no one has ever seen it.

The question where in our person the soul dwellscan only approximately be answered. Such is thecase with the spirit-world and the souls of thedeparted. Good angels and bad alike are withouta body. They have neither form nor appearanceby which they can be observed. Whether _anangel needs space, no one knows. Whether in illness

our sick-chamber can hold a thousand angels ornot, no one can tell. The difficulty only lifts itself

when they receive forms in which to appear to us.

As pure spirits, angels are not discerned. The sameapplies to those who have fallen asleep in Jesus.The dead whose bodies are in the grave continuein a purely spiritual state, until the coming of theLord. Meanwhile we can form no idea regardingthem. The same difficulty presents itself when wetry to lift up our heart 'to God. God does notreveal himself to us in a visible form. He is .

invisible because He is Spirit and the Father of

97

spirits. Along the way of ordinary knowledge anddiscovery we can not find God. Contact of soul

with God takes place in a spiritual manner. It

takes place of itself in Immanuel.When in foreign parts we unexpectedly hear our

own language spoken we feel at home at once.

This is because we feel that this language is com-mon property between us and our fellow country-men. In it we live. By it they come closer to us

than others who only speak a foreign tongue. Thisis still more strongly felt with regard to animals.Highly-organized animals come very close to man.There often is a remarkable understandingbetween a shepherd or hunter and his dog, orbetween a rider and his horse. But close as this

approach may be, an altogether different and far

richer world opens itself to us when we meet afellow man. He is flesh of our flesh, bone of ourbone, with a soul like our own. And this creates

fellowship which is far more intimate and tender,

especially when the people we meet are of like

tastes and aims of life with ours. There areclasses, social distinctions and other divisions in

the world of man. And if anyone would becomemore closely acquainted with us and invite mutualconfidence, he should be one of our class and beembarked, as it were, on the sea of life in thesame boat with us. And this is the meaning of

Immanuel.In the Babe of Bethlehem God draws near to

us in our nature, in order presently in our lan-

guage, through the medium of our world of

thought and with the aid of our representationsto make his presence felt in the heart, in accord-

ance with the perceptions of which it is capable.

He draws near to us in our nature, so that in

order to find God we do not need to go out fromour nature and enter upon a purely spiritual exist-

ence. Desirous to bless us, God from his side

makes the transition which he spares us. We donot go to him, but he comes to us. We neednot raise ourselves up to him, but he comes downto us that afterwards he may draw us up to him-self. He enters into our nature. He assumes it

and cradles in the Bethlehem manger with anexistence which human nature brings with it.

Here the distance between God and us is removed.The tension and effort to understand it purelyspiritually is spared us. What we perceive is

human nature. What presently we hear is humanspeech. What we observe are utterances of humanlife. An unknown brightness plays and glistens

through it all and behind it all, a mysterioushigher something, a something altogether holy.

But now it does not repel, but it attracts andcharms because it approaches us in our ownhuman nature. The human nature of Immanuelis not merely a screen to temper dazzling glories,

but the means and instrument to bring Divine life

unaffectedly and intimately near to the heart. It

is as though human nature in us unites itself withhuman nature in Jesus in order to bring God intoimmediate contact with the soul.

We do not say that this was necessary byitself. The fact of our creation after the DivineImage seemed to give us every requisite for fellow-ship with God. But we must ever remember thatsin ruined this Image. In this weakened and

ruined estate nothing short of holy grace couldfill the gap. This was done in Immanuei, in the

coming of God to us in the garb of human nature.

Idolatry proclaimed the need of this when it

imaged the Lord of heaven and earth after the

likeness of a man. Hence Christianity alone canundo idolatry and paganism, since in Immanuei it

presents the true Image of God anew. The result

itself has sealed this. In Christ alone pure fellow-

ship with the living God has been realized andgloriously celebrated in Psalm and hymnody.Apart from Immanuei we have philosophy aboutGod, denial of God, or at most idolatry and cold

Deism. In and through Immanuei alone there is

life in God and with God, full of warmth, eleva-

tion and inspiration. In Immanuei God drawsnear to us in our own nature and throughImmanuei the soul mounts from this naturespiritually up to the Father of spirits.

In Immanuei we have the way, but not thegoal. It begins with Jesus, but in the end theFather himself makes tabernacle with us and theday breaks of which Jesus said: "In that day I

say not unto you that I will pray the Father for

you, for the Father himself loveth you." Thenalso the abundant activity of the Holy Ghost will

unfold itself, even of the Comforter who couldnot come until after Jesus had been glorified.

Let there not be anything artificial therefore orconventional in our seeking after God. No wilful,

premeditated going out after Jesus to have fel-

lowship with God. Immanuei brings us reconcilia-

tion, so that we dare to draw near again. Hebrings the Divine in human nature so that we candraw near again. We owe him the Word, the

world of thoughts and representations, the blessedresults of his work that are showered down uponus, and the supply of powers of the Kingdomwhich inwardly renew us. But underneath it all,

personal contact, real fellowship with God, is

always a hidden, spiritual motion, so that inwardlywe hear his voice and we can say with Job:"Now mine eye seeth thee." This is fellowshipwith God as man with man. As Jacob at Peniel.

20

"IN THE LIGHT OF THY COUN-TENANCE."

In moments of intense joy the human face is

radiant. When the soul is depressed, the face is

sad, the eye is dark and it seems that instead of

showing itself in the face and speaking through it,

the soul has turned it into a mask behind whichto hide itself. We see a connection therefore

between joy and bright colors; between sorrowand half-tints, until mourning expresses itself in

black.

The same antithesis meets us when we enterthe world of spirits. Satan is pictured in sombercolors, while good angels are always seen as

kindly appearances of light. In the house of manymansions there is everlasting light ; for Satan thereis outer darkness. The righteous shall shine as

the sun in the firmament, clothed in garments of

light. On Patmos Christ appears to John in blind-

ing glory.

This beautiful thought of light as the expres-

sion of things that are pure and true and glorious,

was bound to present itself in the world of

101

worship by application to God's majesty. God is

light. In Him is no darkness at all. He dwellsin light unapproachable, and Father of lights is

his name. After the creation, therefore, when"darkness was upon the face of the deep," Godcould not appear in the created world withoutfirst sending forth the command: ''Let there belight," and then there was light. The majesty of

God revealed itself in a column of fire at the RedSea. i.nd in a cloud of light in Solomon's Temple.When Moses was to be marked in a special w^ayas the Lord's ambassador, his face shone withblinding splendor. The Savior showed himself onTabor m light of glistening brightness. And in

the descriptions of the New Jerusalem the climaxof its splendor is that there shall be no more sunnor moon there, for that by his benign presenceGod himself shall lighten the world of glory.

Sacred art has long expressed this by represent-ing the head of Christ and of saints surroundedby an halo and their form in glistening robes. Wedo not treat this here from its material side. It

is well known that certain people, who are stronglyimpregnated with magnetism, are able to makeelectric rays of light go out from their finger tips.

We need not doubt that radiancy of face in

moments of great joy is connected with naturaloperations. But the source of this facial light is

not in the magnetic current, but in the spirit, in

the soul, and all the rest is used merely as vehicleand means of direction.

He who watches a child, which never hides any-thing, an enthusiastic child with rosy cheeks, in

such moments of great gladness, observes in theoutward play of countenance that the eyes dilate

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and increase in brightness; that the facial colorheightens so that it shines through and radiates,

and that especially by great mobility the soul

reflects itself in the face. This reflection in partis even permanent. Alongside of the noble coun-tenance of self-sacrificing piety, there is thebrutish, dull, expressionless face of the sensualist.

In the case of young, delicate persons especially,

who have the fire of youth in their eye and whosecomplexion is transparent, the expression of thenobility of soul in the face is sometimes unsur-passably sympathetic in its colorings.

Thus the sacred language which speaks of "walk-ing in the light of God's countenance" (Ps. 89:15),is naturally explained by life itself. With Godeverything material falls away. But the rich, full

expression of the spiritual and the essential

remains. God can not step outside of his hidingexcept as everything that reveals itself is majesty,radiancy, animation and glor}'. That this mayalso be a revelation in anger, is self-evident. Butthis we let pass. We deal with the fact that thereis a soul which seeks after God, and finds God,and whi<;h, happy in this finding, looks into his

holy face and drinks in everything it reads there.

This brings but one experience, which is that nodarkness proceeds from God but only light, soft,

undulating, refreshing light in which the flower-

bud of the heart unfolds itself.

This is the first effect. Gloomy people may bepious, but they do not know the daily tryst withGod. They do not see God in the light of his

countenance, and do not walk in it. Even whenthey who in other ways are brave and heroic getdark lines in their face, it only shows that they

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are out of the light of God's countenance and arestriving to regain it. Even among us a kind face,

beaming with sympathy, is irresistable and drawsout the light from the face of others, whichexpresses itself first of all in a generous smile.

But this is much stronger with the Lord. Wecan not look at God in the light of his coun-tenance without having the gloom of our faces

give place to higher relaxation. For in the light

of God's countenance we know Him. When it

shines out, his spirit draws near to make us see,

observe and feel what God is to us. Not in a doc-trinal way, not in a point of creed, but in utter-

ances of the spirit of unnamable grace and mercy,of overwhelming love and tenderness, and of

Divine compassion, which enters every wound of

the soul at once and anoints it with holy balm.The light of God's countenance shining on us

compasses us about and closes us in. It lifts us

up into a higher sphere of light. And as on thewings of it we feel ourselves carried by the care,

the providence and almighty power of God. Inthe light of God's countenance everything, ourwhole life included, becomes transparent to us,

and through every Golgotha we see the glory that

looms up from it. The light of God's countenanceshines through us and leaves nothing covered in

us of the sins that are covered by grace. Thiscan not be otherwise, for the moment we are

aware that the light of God's face shines throughour person, all hiding of sin is futile. Differently

than X-rays, it shines through our whole heart

and life, including our past. Nothing is spared.

It is an all-penetrating light which nothing canarrest.

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Thus the hght of God's countenance ought tofrighten us, and yet—it does not. And it can notdo this, because it lays bare to us the fulness of

grace which is alive in the Father-heart of God.When anyone does not believe in the entire for-

giveness of sm, God hides his face from him.Only when faith in the atonement operates in full

does the light of the Divine countenance shineupon, compass and penetrate us.

And then comes the "walking in that light."

Walking here implies that not only occasionally

we catch a beam of the light of the Divine coun-tenance, but that it has become permanent for us.

That is, it is there for our good, even when wedo not think of it, and that we regain it everytime our soul longs for it. And so we continueto walk the pathway of our life, from day to day,in the light of the Divine countenance. No longerinspired by our own phantasies, no more spurredon by the ideals of the world, which have shownthemselves deceptive, and no longer with a darkheaven above us, in which at most a single star

still glitters, but we go on by the light which is

above the light of the sun and by the outshiningof ever fuller grace in the light of the countenanceof God.

21

SEEK THY SERVANT.

The searchlight, projected from the tower acrosscity and plain, is a striking image of the flashingof the All-seeing Eye. A bundle of white, soft,

clear light darts out into the darkness, with thevelocity of the twinkling of an eye, from a single

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point as its source. 5i)reads itself over an ever-widening surface across the connriy below, and at

once every object in the track of that light comesout in clear sight. Nothing remains hidden. Andso the heart- and soul-searching light from the All-

seeing Eye above shines forth into the deepestfolds of the conscience.

But the Psalmist does not mean this seeking andsearching when he prays. "Seek, Lord, thySer^'-ant." The figure which the Scripture hereuses is that of the shepherd, wandering among thehills and seeking the lamb that strayed from theflock and is lost. Thus the Psalmist himselfexplains it (119:176): "I have gone astray like alost sheep; seek thy servant; for I do not forgetthy commandments." And this figure from thecountry-life stands much higher than that whichis bon-owed from the searchlight. Here love is

the appreciation of having again what was lost,

the impotence to let go what belongs to the flock,

and the motive of the search, or rather the stim-ulating, impelling passion of the heart.

And here is reciprocity. The lost sheep bleatshelplessly for the shepherd, and the shepherdscans the mountain path to find it. The lost sheepwants to be found and the shepherd wants to find

it. Its bleating is a call : "Seek me, shepherd,"and by bleating it co-operates in the finding.

Such is the Psalmist's cry: "Seek thy Servant;"a prayer that he might be found, which is at thesame time an utterance of the soul that makes thefinding possible.

No child of the world prays this prayer, neitherthe man who, far distant from God. is engrossedin the pursuit of wealth, nor he who worships him-

self in his heart as his own idol. There is no ref-

erence here to the unconverted. He who hereprays knows that he has become God's servant,that he has entered into the service of theAlmighty; that he has been with God, and thathe has strayed away from him. This is clearly

expressed in the image of the shepherd with thelamb. That which has wandered away from theflock has been with it. That which calls for theshepherd has known him. ''Seek thy servant,"is the direct prayer of the child of God who hasknown his Heavenly Father in his love, and whonow for want of this love feels himself desertedand sick at heart and longs again for the tenderenjoyment which he has tasted in the presence of

his God.Do not misunderstand therefore the real mean-

ing of this cry of distress. It is not a call for

conversion, but for return. No unconverted soulcan do this. He who so calls fell away from alove that had once been found and with all thetender yearnings of that lost love he wants it

back.This is of frequent occurrence. A man had

entered in through the narrow gate. He saw his

path sown with higher light. The feeling of thenew life filled his heart. Powers of the Kingdomcoursed through the arteries of the soul. Heunderstood what he lived for. The cup of recon-ciliation was handed him full to the brim. Herejoiced in his Savior. And in a most blessed waythe holy intimate life of fellowship with God in

Christ - unfolded itself within. But this did notcontinue. Fog rose across the inner sky. Fromfollowing the right way it came to wandering, and

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from wandering to wandering away. And theneverything became uncertain, restless and comfort-less. Influences from beneath repressed holy influ-

ences from above. God seemed far removed fromhim. The tie of faith in Christ which was onceso firmly strung, was weak. It was dark for thesoul and in this darkness the heart began to feel

lonely and forsaken, till it could endure it nolonger and longed after God again and tried to

seek him back.But seeking was not followed by finding. No

signs marked off the path. Going this way andnow that the soul remained equally far removedfrom God, or wandered at length still farther awayfrom him. When once we have been enrichedwith the love of God it is not given us to playwith it; first to win it, then to let it go, and thento take it back again at pleasure. He who hasknown the Lord and afterward has forsaken himdoes not of himself find him again. And so welearn to know our lack of saving power. We cannot save ourselves. But we retain the deep con-sciousness that we can not do without God; thatthe want of his love creates an aching void in

the heart, until finally it becomes a matter of con-viction: I can not seek God back, but God canseek me again. And then follows the anxiousbleating of the wandering sheep. A call from thedepth of the soul upon God whom he has lost, theprayer, the supplication: O God, seek thyservant.

This longing desire to find God back takes awonderful hold sometimes upon the human heart.

There are those whom God allowed, while theywere yet children, and thus but partly known to

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themselves, to feel his lov^e; that He regeneratedthem, but that conscious faith did not reach thefuller knowledge of his name. This led to theunusual condition that God worked inwardly withhis power, but that in spite of it doubt filled theheart and mind. We have all known certain peo-ple who were not able to believe, but whose noblequalities of mind and heart were both interesting

and refreshing. They were frequently far moreattractive than many confessed believers. Theywere flowers in the bud, which could not come tobloom, but even then the half-opened budexhaled sweet fragrance. Inwardly they were con-sumed with longing after God, but they did notunderstand their own desires. They did not knowthat they already belonged to God, though at

times they were conscious of nameless drawingsafter him. And they do not pray, but others whocan, pray for them: Lord, seek this thy servant,

seek this thine handmaid. For every utteranceof their lives proves that they are thy servants.

They are children of the family of faith. Onl\'

they have not as yet discovered their Father.And as long as this is not a prayer from the lips

alone, but from the heart, it is heard both in

behalf of ourselves and of those the burden of

whose salvation the Lord has laid upon us. Forthen God seeks them, and finds them, and gives

himself to be found of them.How this takes place no one can tell. To this

end God uses at one time a man's natural lot in

life; at another time a written thought which hedrives home, or some striking word which hemakes us hear. To this end he works by meansof affliction that heavily burden, the heart; by

means of hard and perilous times, which try us to

the utmost; by contact with different people whoare met by the way; by impressions of angels

that hover about us at his command, and by his

secret workings in the heart. It is an embroider-ing which God works upon the soul in all sorts

of colors and forms. But however different andinscrutable these operations maj- be, the outcomei.s assured. God seeks us. He finds us. And at

length we discover that we have been found. Forthen God's presence in the heart is vitally enjoyedagain.

In the seeking of our God let us not hinder thefinding. Not merely doubt, but even the inclin-

ation to prefer doubt to assurance is sin against

the love of God. When the Lord seeks you andlaj's his hand upon your shoulder, do not drawback. Kneel at his feet. Offer thanks to himand worship.

22

STRENGTHENED WITH MIGHT.

It is no longer doubted that atmospheric con-ditions vitally affect health. Fresh air builds upand invigorates. They who breathe pure moun-tain air have iron in the blood, while they wholive in low and marshy regions breathe air thatis impregnated with poisons from the swamps, so

that their strength is sapped and their vital

forces are weakened. It can not be otherwise.

With every breath we take in air with everythingit contains, and through countless pores in the skin

we absorb atmospheric elements which open theway to influences that affect the constitution. Thepale and the anaemic are constantly advised there-

no ^

fore to seek fresh air and a healthy atmosphere.In hot and sultry summer days we pant for therelief which evening brings. And they who are

in easy reach of the shore revel in the cool

invigorating air of the sea.

And since we are two-sided, that is to say, since

we consist of body and soul, the atmospheric influ-

ence upon our physical health finds a counterpartin the effects of the moral character of our sur-

roundings upon our moral development. This,

too, is above question. Sad and joyous eventscontinually show that low moral standards in life

injure character, while moral and healthy environ-ments quicken our own moral sense. In educationthe light and shadow sides are largely dominatedby this atmospheric influence. The secret of

mother influence upon the early formation of

character is largely due to the fact that childhooddays are almost entirely spent in her constantpresence. The moral life also has laws of its own.It expresses itself in acts and in events. It re-

flects itself in writings and in conversations. Butapart from all this, moral life is still somethingelse. It is even a sort of moral skj'-, a moral at-

mosphere which is either healthy and bracing,

poisonous and hurtful or neutral and weakening.However strong our character may be, the in-

fluences of this moral atmosphere work out ourspiritual benefit or bane.Nor is this all. Not only does the air which we

breathe affect our bodily health, and not only doesour moral environment shape our moral life, buta personal atmosphere also affects us strongly.

Close fellowship with world-minded people clo-^e

fellowship with people who are worldly-mmded and

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oi little elevation of character degrades us. Dailyintercourse with people of nobler disposition, of

more seriousness of thought, and of holier aims in

life, spin- us on to better things ourselves. A goodman is like a good genius to us. Pure environ-ments hold us back from things that pull us down.We notice this particularly in the case of men of

sterling qualities and women of dominant spirits.

They exert a power of attraction upon each otherwhich tends to make them alike. One is stronger

than the other, and the stronger is bound to mouldthe weaker into likeness with himself. Imitationis a fundamental trait of human nature and grad-ually and involuntarily the weaker inclines to doand to be like the stronger, which extends some-times even to the inflection of the voice and to

the manner of conversation. And this personalinfluence leads of itself to religious influence,

which is entirely apart from the moral. At heartall religion is personal. Moses put his stamp uponall Israel. The Gospel has been carried into theworld by the Apostles. Augustin inspired theMiddle Ages. Luther and Calvin are spiritual

fathers of the Reformation. And to this day in

every community, large or small, where a strongly

inspired, religious life dominates, the persons canbe pointed out from whom this healthy, bracingatmosphere has emanated. Fire in the heart of

one strikes fire in the heart of the other. A devoutChristian life wins the souls of its associates for

God.Now we reach the highest round of the ladder,

of which as a rule too little account is taken. Wemay breathe mountain or sea air. We may drinkin the moral atmosphere of our environment. We

112

may partake of the inspiration that goes forth

from a finely-strung nature among our fellow men.But the highest of all, the influence of which for

real strengthening of heart far exceeds all others,

is the secret walk with God. Paul prays for theEphesians (3:16) that they might be strengthenedwith might by his Spirit in the inner man. This is

the highest and holiest atmosphere that can andought to inwork on us. Imagine that our Lordwere still on earth and that every day for a monthwe could be with Him, we would breathe anatmosphere of exalted and holy living, which in

an altogether unequalled way, would strengthen uswith might in the inner man. It was the privilege

of the Apostles, exceeding every other, to spendthree years in this holy atmosphere, and look, withwhat strength in the inner man they went outinto the world. This is impossible now. Jesus is

no more known after the flesh. But through himwe have access to the Father, and through himwe can have daily, personal, secret fellowship withGod.

If we think that everything ends with the brief

moment of prayer, we remain but a short time in

this holy atmosphere. Average prayer, as a rule,

does not cover more than half an hour out of

every twenty-four. This is not the way the Scrip-

ture takes it. David sang: "I will dwell in thehouse of the Lord for ever," (Ps. 23:6). Bothbefore and since this royal harper the saints whohave sought and found and known and enjoyedthe secret walk with God have always understoodthat it means repeated thought of God, constantlifting up of soul to him, considering all thingswith an eye to him who loves us, ever dwelling

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near unto him, continual consciousness of his

holy, encouraging and inspiring presence, personalrealization of God's nearness on every side, withall of life immersed, as it were, in the glory thatshines out from the Divine Being, and feeling in

the heart the throbbings of the Father-heart of

God. Churches that are so conditioned are alive.

They may be pure in doctrine but without this

they are dead. Preachers who bring this to their

congregations are embassadors of God. They whohave no eye for this because the heart does notgo out after it, are tinkling cymbals.When ''to be near unto God" is our joy and our

song; when we dwell in the house of the Lord,and the secret walk with God is daily our delight,

we experience the mighty, strengthening influence

of the holy atmosphere above, which angelsbreathe and from which departed saints drink in

the never-fading freshness of their soul. Then thepowers of the Kingdom flow into the inner man.Heavenly ozone ministers to the soul. Spiritual

power restrains what is unholy and impure in us.

Draughts from the Fountain of Life make thebreast swell with fresh vigor and vitalit}'. Evenas in the Holy Ghost God himself touches us, andinspires us to render nobler exhibits of power.The whole social fabric of daily life would won-

derfully change if every soul could breathe this

holy atmosphere. Alas, for sin. When the

anaemic is advised to try mountain or sea air heat once craves the means to do it. But when it

is said, "Get away from your environments, seekthe company of those of higher moral worth,"someone may be moved, but the larger numberscontinue their pleasure in their own evil ways.

114

And when the matter is pressed, and it is said,

"Cultivate the secret walk with God and drink in

the atmosphere of the life above," no one responds,except as God draws him. And if we are privil-

eged to know this secret fellowship, it but showswhat excellent grace has been bestowed upon us.

Let us therefore with St, Paul bow the knees untothe Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, that this

glorious privilege maj^ be not taken from us, butthat from this secret walk abounding might maycontinuall}' be granted to strengthen us in theinner man.

23

"TO WHOM IS THE ARM OF THE LORDREVEALED?"

No thought lifts us more securely'' above thepower of material interests and above the tempta-tion of the appetites than the confession, "Godis a Spirit;" from which of itself the second flows,

that he who worships Him can not and must notdo so except in spirit and in truth. This excludesfrom God and from the worship of his nameeverything that is material, sensual or what is

bound to form. God is a Spirit. This liberat-es

the soul from every chain that might bind or

oppress it contrary to its nature; always oncondition, of course, that God, who is Spirit, is

worshipped in spirit and in truth with all thelove of the heart. That God is Spirit brings all

idolatry to naught, ail creature-worship, and dis-

misses every sensual horror which idolatry broughtwith it and which hastened the downfall of thenations of antiquity. Not to analyze the riches

115

of this all-dominating thought too closely, the fact

that God is Spirit lifts human life above the wholevisible world and exalts the spirit within us tothe high spheres of the invisible world where Goddwells in light unapproachable. For if God is

Spirit, he is altogether independent of this visible

creation. He was, before the mountains werebrought forth. There was an eternity when noth-ing material was as yet created; so that in depen-dent relations all visible things occupy a secondaryplace

;physical death does not end all ; existence

can be prolonged, though for a while we are onlyspirit ; and we can revel now in the supreme richesof the thought that if needs be we can despise thewhole world and yet occupy high spiritual vantageground and be spiritually rich in God.But however strong and superlatively rich the

confession is that God is Spirit, it, too, has beencorrupted by sin. We see this most clearly whenwe think of Satan and the world of demons. Somepeople who deem themselves civilized and highlycultivated may hold Satan and his demons as

mere fabrications of weak minds. They whobelieve, correctly hold that with respect to this

matter also Jesus knew more than they who pre-

tend to be enlightened. In the '"Our Father" hetaught us to pray: "Deliver us from the evil

One," and he wove the good rule into it when hefurthermore made us pray: "Thy will be doneon earth as it is in iieaven." 'Tn heaven" mustmean: by thy angels. And angels are pure spirits

without bodies. If Satan was not evil by creation,

which can not be otherwise, if originally he wasa good and a brilliant creature of God, who felt

himself at home in the world of angels, it must

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be confessed that he, too, is a spirit and that his

demons are spirits. This does not make sin purely

spiritual, neither does it exclude sin from the

world of matter. But it means that all sin, mclud-

ing voluptuousness and drunkenness, originates in

the spirit, and that the Psalmist was correct when

he prayed: Keep back thy servant also from pre-

sumptuous sins; let them not have dominion over

me ; then shall I be upright and I shall be innocent

from the great transgression (19:13).

Nothing offends more greatly therefore than

that in the social world immorality is taken to

consist exclusively - of intemperance, debauch or

A'oluptuousness, and that its attendants of scorn,

bitterness, anger and revenge are seemingly no

blots on the good name of celebrated people

Along this line the glorious confession that Godis Spirit is abandoned to pantheism, while

presumptuous pride leads at length to such high

esteem of self as to make one dream that he him-

self is God. This has given rise to the monstrous

idea, even among devout souls, that with the "newman in the spirit" all responsibility can be dis-

owned for sins of sensuality which "the old man"has committed. And this in true is entirely the

same error as that which is revived again in the

school of Maeterlinck that the pure soul within

is not stained by sensual misdeeds of the body.

Holy Scripture subverts all this by impressing

upon the soul that God is Spirit and that all the

workings of God are the personal doings of Onewho is everywhere present with us. God is a Spirit,

upon the soul that God is Spirit, and that all the

pervading the whole creation; not a vague work-

ing, elusive and inapprehensible. No, thrice no.

He is a God who is our Heavenl}- Father, whospeaks to us, who hears our prayers, in whosebreast throbs a heart full of Divine compassion.He IS a personal God, who companies with us asa friend, who turns in with us for the night, andwho allows us to dwell in his holy tabernacle.

The works of God are constantly described there-

fore as personal acts, in connection with whichreferences abound to the face of God, to themouth of the Lord, to the ear which he inclines

toward us, to the footsteps of the Holy One, to

the hand which is over us in blessing, and to thearm of strength with which the Lord breaks all

forms of opposition. All this is in part personi-fication, by which what is found in man is appliedto God. But there is more to it than this. Hethat planted the ear, the Psalmist asks: Shall henot hear? He that formed the eye, shall he notsee? (94:9). The eye and the ear, the hand andthe arm are but bodily manifestations of ourinward powers, which God has so made, becausehe created us after his image. When we say that

God hears, sees, speaks, blesses and fights, it is

not said so, metaphorically, after the manner of

men, but by it is asserted that all this is original

in God and that it only appears in us after his

image. When the Scripture speaks of an arm of

the Lord, it means that there is not merely a

vague outflowing of power from God, but that

God governs his indwelling and outgoing power,

that he directs it to definite ends, that he uses

or leaves it unused according to his good pleasure,

and that when God employs his power to protect

or to oppose us, it is equally much, and in a

still higher sense, a personal act, as when we lift

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up our arm to protect a child or to ward off anassailant.

When the prophet Isaiah asks (53:1): Towhom is the arm of the Lord revealed? and thequestion in turn is put to you : Is the arm of theLord revealed to you? it does not mean in a

vague general way whether you believe that there

is a God, and that there is a power of God, andwhether you believe that this power is operative.

But rather whether in your position and in yourexperience in life 3^ou have discovered thatAlmighty God has personal dealings with you, thatas God he has turned himself in person to yourperson, and has come in contact with you as aman comes in contact with his friend or with his

assailant, and whether in this strictly personal rela-

tion you have discerned the arm of the Lord lift-

ing itself up to cover and protect you, or turningitself against you to assail and cast you down.This is what most lives lack, even among those

that confess Christ. They lack what is recordedof Moses: that he endured as seeing him who is

Invisible. They do not understand what is toldof Jacob, that he wrestled with God as with a man.They have vague impressions that there are certaininfluences, operations and powers abroad, but theydo not see the Holy One, they have no dealingswith God as with a Father who comes to his child,

looks it in the face with his eyes, listens to it

with his ears, puts his hand on it and covers it

with the arm of his power. The}' praj' to Godand praise him, but they do not meet him in theway. They do not feel his presence with them bynight. They do not feel his holy breath upontheir cheek. And they do not see the "arm of

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strength" which is all their assurance and salva-

tion. It can not be insisted upon therefore withsufficient urgency that Bible reading be made amore serious business; that we wean ourselvesfrom the false tendency to take everything in

Scripture metaphoricall3^ God's word is a lampbefore our feet and a light upon our path, becauseit alone engraves these two things upon the heart:that God is Spirit, and that, as Our Father who is

in heaven, this God meets us in the way and deals

with us as a man with his neighbor; invisible andyet seen.

24

THAT THEY MIGHT KNOW THEE.

''This is life eternal, that they might know Thee,the only true God" (John 17:3). No human wordcan express a deeper thought or higher aim thanthis. It was not spoken by a seer to men, but bythe Son to the Father. And it must be heardanew by him who would seek God, since it hasbeen put on record for this purpose.No prayers of our Lord during his more than

thirty years' life on earth, in Joseph's home atNazareth, in mountain or desert place, by day or

night, have been recorded in the Gospels, save afew sentence prayers and the cry of distress in

Gethsemane. In John 17, however, the high-priestly pra3'^er of our Savior has come down to

us in all its sublime grandeur. He who gave usthe Scripture to guide us on our pilgrim journeyhas ordained that this prayer of Jesus to theFather should awake an echo in our own prayingheart.

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If all the prayers of our Savior had been pre-

served m writing, it would have been an inex-

haustible treasure. First, the child-like prayers of

his early life, which already at the age of twelve

showed such Divine traits that even in its still

undeveloped form it breathed perfection andapprehended it. Then the period in Jesus prayer-

life from youth to manhood spent in retirement

and in preparation for the great work of our sal-

vation. Then the closing period of three years, so

brief and quickly passed, but which is by far therichest, because of the storms that raged andwhich were battled through at the pains of whocan say how many long hours spent in agonizingprayer.

Nothing of all the riches of these prayers hasbeen handed down to us save this one. "I thankThee, Father, Lord of heaven and earth,

because thou hast hid these things from the wiseand prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes.Even so, Father; for so it seemed good in thysight." And in the high-priestly prayer, this

sacred diadem which has been handed down to ugunchanged and unabbreviated, we discover whatis at heart the same thought: "This is eternallife, that they might know Thee, the Only TrueGod." In Matth. 11 it is not the prudent and thewise, but babes. In John 17 it is not the world,but them whom Thou hast given me out of theworld. In both instances it is the knowledge ofGod; that which has been revealed of the Holyand the Highest. And what is to be adored in itall is the Divine good pleasure.This is prayer: Not criticizing what is holy,

but taking it in, drinking it in. And by the

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entrance of the Holy One into our life, not merelyto live forever, but to have a life which in its ownnature is eternal.

When something stirs in a secret place andsomething proceeds therefrom, there is life. Thepregnant mother feels life when she is aware of

motion within, and then knows that presentlylife will be born from her. So it is with us. Wlieneverything is still within, when no voice is heardfrom the soul, and nothing stirs in our inmostparts, who can know whether the soul lives? Wemay live along with the life of the world and beaffected by it, even as the motion of the sea

leaves no single drop at rest, but communicatesits own restlessness to it. This, however, is nota life of one's own. It is no inner impulse the

momentum of which springs from oneself.

Moving along with the rise and fall of theworld's life may develop warmth within, mayenrich one intellectually, may deepen the affec-

tions and widen experience, but it has no root of

its own, no individual impulse and therefore it cannot convey permanent possession. And when at

length death removes us from this restless life of

the world, this purely impersonal life that hasbeen lived with others, is shaken off and nothingremains. Real personal life, on the other hand,springs from a Divinely implanted seed, whichinwardly germinates and unfolds. But, for its

proper growth, it continually asks for food after its

own kind. If it fails of this, it languishes andwithers. Abundance of provisions, which are not

meet, do not help it. It can not assimilate nordigest them. Insofar as they enter into it theyonly pervert it. Getting food after its own kind

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only once in a while, in small measures, does nothelp it. To reach full development it must con-stantly be fed with food convenient for it.

This is "eternal life" for the soul. Not onlylife hereafter, but an unfolding here of the inner

self, according to its disposition, nature and des-

tim-. In this process everything that poisons theblood of the inner life is expelled, and every needof it is met. And the supply for this inner feeding,

strengthening and sanctifying is so constant, per-manent and essentially eternal, as to insure per-fect fruition. This is eternal life for the innerself of man created after God's image.

According to the teaching of our Lord, the soulonly finds this food for eternal life in the eternal

God. The Lord is my portion, my everlasting

good (Ps. 16:5). What can my heart desire onearth beside Thee? (Ps. 73:25). God is thehighest good. In Thy light we see light. WithThee is the source of my life (Ps. 36:9).

Everything comes to us from God. We owehim thanks for everything we have. Every goodand perfect gift cometh down from the Father of

lights. From him, through him, and to him are

all things. But the end and aim is, and ever shall

be, that God shall be all and in aU.It is beautiful to confess that our God is Lord

of lords and King of kings. That he appoints,allows and governs all things. Far greater, how-ever, is the confession that God the Holy Ghostenters into us and dwells in us, and chooses us forhis temple, and makes intercession in us and for

us with groanings that are unutterable.

In this alone the heart finds rest. Everythingthat grace bestows are but radiations of glory and

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love. The burning hearth of all love and gloryis in God himself. Every drop of the water of

eternal life is refreshing, but the Fountain fromwhich these waters spring is the loving heart of

the Eternal. Throughout the entire Scripturetherefore, and throughout the whole Church, andin every saintly soul, the confession of passionatedelight: It is good for me, it is my blessed lot

"to be near unto God," may always be heard.Him seeks the eye. Him desires the heart. Andonly and alone when the soul has found its

highest good in God, can the germ of the personallife in us revive from its withered estate, and beginto develop and to unfold, until from the half-

opened bud expands the blossom of everlasting

life.

This can not be otherwise on account of thenature of the soul. We have not made it our-selves. The world has not determined its char-acter. It has not become what it is by chance.God alone has planned what the human soul

should be. Hence its nature is what he appointedthat it should be. And so it continues to bewhether it is the soul of a Judas or the soul of aSt. John. It can develop itself in holiness, it canalso degenerate in sin and become corrupt. Butwhether it unfolds in glory or in corruption, bothare what they are by virtue of the nature of thesoul as God has planned it. Every creative planhas gone out from God. A plan for the stars in

the firmament, fOr the corn in the ear. for the

lark that sings among the branches, for the angelthat sings the Holy, Holy, Holy, in the sanctuaryabove. But the nature, the essential character of

the human soul, was planned and ordained of God124

to be different from the nature of everything else.

With charming clearness the Scripture defines

the nature of the soul in this single phrase: that

we are created after the image of God. This

includes everything. From this everything explains

itself. From this it comes that the soul can never

have its "highest good" save in Him after whose

Image it originated. The opposite truth no less

holds good that everything that turns the soul to

another good than God as the highest, wounds,

corrupts and poisons it. It is painful to see that

the nations with their seething multitudes have no

understanding of this. But it is more painful to

see that even among serious-minded people many

lay hold on everything else but God. Most pain-

ful of all is the sight of many religious people

who follow after everything that is good, but show

that they have never tasted the "highest good.

But our blessed Lord does not despair. In

heaven he continues to intercede for his saints

upon earth: ''Father, this is eternal life, that they

might know Thee, the only true God." And in

perfect accord with this is the disclosure, m con-

stantly new-born children of the Kingdom, of the

ardent life of the soul, which responds to this

prayer with a devout: Amen.

26

''SHOW US THE FATHER."

In this meditation also the main thought is the

striking word of Jesus: This is eternal life, that

they might know Thee, the Only true God. Its

meaning is too profound to be fully set forth at

125

one time. Therefore we come back to it now andwill presently do so again.

We have tried to explain what eternal life is.

We did not undertake to reduce it to a single

definition, neither have we subjected the idea toclose analysis. All we essayed to do was, to makethe life to be perceived in life itself, and toexplain that eternal life means more than merelife without end. Mere endless life would drive

us to despair; eternal life, which is altogether dif-

ferent, inspires and rejuvinates.

And now to the point. It does not say that hewho knows the Father shall have eternal life. It

does not say: If you are religious and earnestly

seek to know God, your reward after death will

be eternal life. On the contrary it declares thatto know God is itself eternal life. The difference

is seen at once to be heavenwide. To interpret

eternal life as a reward for pains taken to knowGod is superficial, mechanical and affected. Thethought that eternal life is itself the knowledge of

God is unfathomably deep. Eternal life as thereward for knowledge is a part of school discipline.

First much study, much memorizing, much takingnotes of dictations, and then promotion from apassing existence into an endless one. This makesit all a sort of higher life-insurance, or turns it intoa course of mental gymnastics, into the study of

a work on dogmatics which is subtly composed,every sentence of which is carefully constructed,and which presents in an orderly way what in thecourse of centuries has been systematized regard-mg the Being, Work, Person and Attributes of theInfinite. And when at length everything hasbecome dry as dust to the eye of the soul, and

126

when there is no more fragrance of Hfe percept-

ible anywhere, the reward of this barren, deadknowledge is eternal life. All this falls away whenthe saying of Jesus is taken as it reads: Theknowledge of God is itself eternal life. He whohas it, has already, here and now. eternal life. Hewho dies without having found it here, will neverfind it in the hereafter. No eternal morning will

dawn on him. And this interpretation, whichseems to us the only permissible one, affects uslike a power that pierces the conscience with thequestion: Have you this knowledge? And it

urges us, now, before it is too late, to seek it

with all our might, until in thrilling ecstacy of soul

we feel the swell of the undulation of this eternal

life.

And now comes Philip with the naive request:Lord, show us the Father (John 14:8). This waschildlike in its simplicity, but he chose the right

starting point from which to advance. He whoasks like this shows that he means it. and that heis in earnest about it. He wants to know God, It

shows that he does not care for book-knowledge,but for life-knowledge of God, And what is morenatural than that he begins by asking: Show methe Father.

One of the defects of the religious life, as it has

come down to us from the Reformation, is that in

distinction from Rome it has been developed toodogmatically. This could not be otherwise. Doc-trine can not be sacrificed. But when it appears

too onesidedly in the foreground, there is some-thing wrong. The same difference presents itself

between the Gospels and the Epistles: the latter

127

are in part controversial. In the Gospel the dis-

tinction occurs between the sermon on the Mountand Jesus' controversy with the scribes. The first

period of the Reformation was better than the

later one. What rapture marks the language of

the Confession and the Office of Holy Communionin distinction from the barrenness of later formu-laries. First there are bounding floods of life, andthen we find drained river-beds with only someweak rill coursing through the sand. We will

never know how greatly this has impoverished the

church.But Philip knows nothing about these contrasts

and formularies. He faces the matter with child-

like simplicity. To him God is really the EternalBeing. He longs for God. He seeks after him.The prayer of his heart is that he might see God.Hence the request: Show us the Father. Whenreports go the rounds about a person and some-one asks: Do you know him? nothing is morenatural, when you do not know him, than to say:

I have not even seen him. For seeing is of

first importance. An impression received throughsight speaks for itself. Both in Old and New Tes-taments the desire to see God appears everywherein the foreground. With Moses when he prayed:

Show me thy glory, and Jehovah replied: Noman shall see my face and live (Exod. 33:18, 20).

And in I Cor. 13:12 St. Paul declares: But we all,

with open face beholding as in a glass the glory

of the Lord, are changed into the same imagefrom glory to glory. In words like these the life

of the Scripture beats and throbs. There is nodry as dust there. Everything pulsates with

128

reality. All interests center in God, in the living

God, to see him, to behold him, and ardently torejoice in this life-giving look. When, therefore,

Philip asked: Lord, show us the Father, he madethe right beginning, and it sprang fiom his burn-ing thirst after the living God.But alas, God can not be seen with our outward

eyes. The reason for this is perfectly plain. Wecan only see things, whatever they are, when theypresent themselves as parts of the visible worldand are sufficiently limited to fall within the rangeof our vision. No one can see the world as awhole, but only in fragments and parts; now this

part, now that, as far as it falls within reach. Buteven if we could see the whole world, we wouldstill be unable to see God, because the world is

finite, and God is infinite. The greatest idea thatcan be formed of the world falls away into noth-ingness compared with the infinite God. We canonly see what falls within our range of vision andwhat has form and appearance. But God is Spirit,

and they who worship him must worship himin spirit and in truth. God can not be seen there-

fore outside of ourselves. To desire to do this is

to bring him down to our level, to give him a

form and to rob him of his spirituality. Hereidolatry comes in. It began when people "changedthe glory of the incorruptible God into an imagemade like to corruptible man" (Rom. 1:23). It

did not spring from wickedness, but from piety.

Not the worst, but the best people from amongthe nations built temples and placed an image of

God in them. Then the priests showed themtheir God in an image which they had made.

129

They thought that they had thereby brought Godcloser to the people, while in fact the miserableimage had caused all knowledge of God to be lost

to them. With every representation of God, Godhimself is gone. Hence the searching warning of

St. John: Little children, keep yourselves fromidols.

Thus there remains the cry: Show us the

Father. The cry from the soul, that is not satis-

fied with a dogma and a creed, but wants Godhimself; the truly childlike and devout heart that

thirsts for the living God. And side by side withthis remains the other fact, that no objective rep-

resentation of God is possible, and that He cannot be seen with mortal eye. He is the Invisible.

With every effort to represent him by an imagethe Infinite is lost and man is exiled farther awayfrom God. And the reconciliation of these mutu-ally excluding facts : that we are inwardly impellednot to rest until we have seen God, and that byrepresentations of him we lose him altogether

lies in Jesus' answer to Philip: "He that hathseen Me, hath seen the Father; and how sayest

thou then, show us the Father?" (John 14:9).

And how? There is an outward look and there

is an inward look. But we can not have this

inward look as single individuals. Not by our-

selves alone, but in our human nature. In the

Son of Man God himself appears to us in this

human nature. Through fellowship with the Sonof Man we see God, in Jesus, through Jesus, andthrough the Holy Ghost we see him in ourselves.

Not the image of God in the temple of idols, but

the image of God in Christ.

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26

HE THAT HATH SEEN ME HATH SEENTHE FATHER.

There are sayings of Jesus that make one

tremble and stand back—unless he believes onhim. One of these is: He that loveth father or

mother more than me is not worthy of me(Matth. 10:37). Imagine a man who would dare

to say anything like this in a public meeting.

Every hearer would take him to be insane. If a

man were to come into your home and in yourpresence address your child like this, would younot take sure measures to prevent him from doing

so again? But Jesus spake like this. And youteach your child that this saying is true—because

you worship Jesus.

Such is the case with Jesus' answer to Philip:

He that hath seen me hath seen the Father (John

14:9). This rouses the same repellant feeling.

We would make a man, who spoke like this, harm-less by securing him a lodging in an institution

for the insane—unless we honored and worshipped

God in him. There is no choice in this matter.

In any nation in whose public conscience there

glows a spark of religion, public opinion woulddemand the arrest of a man of such blasphemouspretensions. But to this striking saying of Jesus

on the contrary our own heart echoes consent

—

because we worship him.

It all depends on this. The Sanhedrin and the

excited Jews in the courts of Justice at Jerusalem

acted consistently from their viewpoint, when they

took Jesus for a blasphemer and cast him out.

131

They did not worship him. As long as their eyeswere closed against the Divine majesty of Jesusthey could not do otherwise. Their sin was notthat they cast out Jesus, but that they did notsee God in Him. They talked a good deal aboutGod. But when God appeared to them in Jesusthey knew him not and denied that it was He.And this is the case now. In times of refreshings,

when religious perceptions are clear, thousands see

God in Jesus who never did so before. In timesof religious decline multitudes abandon the faith

and take pleasure in heaping other honorary titles

upon Jesus than those that are his own. Theycall him the ideal man, the model of true piety

the hero of faith, the martyr for a sacred cause.

These are altogether words, and only words, bywhich to soothe the conscience and to evade theissue at stake, which is, that with Thomas theyshould kneel adoringly at his feet with the cry:

"My Lord and My God." In daring frenzyVoltaire permitted the Uinjame to flow from his

reckless pen. But he was braver than these irreso-

lute spirits. At heart they are one with him.They do not believe that they who saw Jesussaw God. But they have not the heart to sayhow this Jesus, who dared to say this, should beestimated.The highest act within reach of the spirit of

man is to see God in Jesus. The Deity of Christ

is generally accepted in childhood years. But astime goes on it is given little or no thought. Forthe rest this conviction is left as a foreign some-thing in the conscience, without being worked overand applied to the same in its later stages of

development. This should not be censured too

132

severely. Many can not advance beyond this.

Their mental grasp has no further reach. Andeven from such a defective conviction childlike

faith can borrow moral strength. But the thrice

blessed, who have been initiated into a moresympathetic and more ardent piety, can not rest

content with this. They think and contemplate;

they go through spiritual experiences; and bythese inner activities of the soul they enter into

this mystery more deeply than mere analytic

study of doctrine can effect. Seeing with the eye

of sense is not full, clear and perfect sight to

them. Without the eye of sense God saw purely,

spiritually and immediately, long before we ever

saw. And when in the creation after his Image

God endowed man with the power to see, of

necessity human sight was originally spiritual,

internal and immediate. Only because God also

clothed man with a body and placed him in a

world of sense, did He form the human eye

through which man can see this world. For this

alone, and for no other purpose, was the eye of

sense created. Consequently it can only see this

visible world. When the other far more compre-

hensive, invisible world is concerned, it has no

use. And, therefore, man was endowed with

another eye, even the eye of the soul, to which

as a subordinate instrument, the eye of sense only

renders auxiliary aid. There are two worlds:

one spiritual and one material. In connection

with these there are two eyes: one in the soul

and one in the body. And there is a two-fold

vision: immediate sight in the spirit and mediate

sight through mortal eye. An inward look and an

outward look. An imaginary seeing of which we

133

are so clearlj' conscious that nothing is more com-mon than the saying: "You see that I am right,"

where seeing refers to what has been said or

explained, and not to anything shown to the eyeof sense.

From the nature of the case, therefore, to seethe Father in Jesus was no primitive act of theeye of sense. God is a Spirit, and he who wouldsee the Father in Jesus, must see in him the Spirit

which is God. Spiritual seeing with the eye of thesoul alone is possible here. At first somethingdeeply spiritual is discerned in Jesus, even as in

other men of hoh' lives. Further looking into his

holy being brings to light that in Jesus this

spiritual excellence is of an higher type than in

anyone else. In him it is clearer, fuller, richer.

And this does not yet explain Jesus in' full. Thatspirituality in him is nobler, richer and fuller

than in others, even in the best of men, does notsay enough. In Jesus an unfathomable depth dis-

closes itself, so that at length it must be acknowl-edged that in him the spiritual lives and shines

more richly than was ever thought possible. It

exceeds human thought. It surpasses the think-

able. Of itself spiritual observation of Jesuspasses on into the infinite. Latest distinctions are

lost. From the background of his being shines

eternal perfection. Everything shifts before thevision of the soul. Unconsciously the transition is

made from the finite into the infinite, until Godis discerned in Jesus and in wonder and adorationwe kneal at his feet and worship.

But this experience is not something apart fromwhat the eye of sense sees in the Incarnate Word.In this examination the spirit of Jesus is not

134

detached from his personal appearance. The body

is not ignored that the soul may be discerned, but

Jesus is taken as he was, appeared, spoke and

acted. One appearance is faced, one perfect whole,

one mystery. Even as among us there are times

when a person becomes radiant and allows his

soul to shine through his face, in his eye, about

his lips, in his word and in his act, so that through

the outward appearance the person within is seen

—so it was with Jesus, only far stronger, and all

the time. His appearance must have been over-

whelming. The impression which he made must

have been full of wonder. When we think of the

soulfulness in his holy eye, the changes of expres-

sion in his face, and his modulated, sympathetic

voice, it is felt at once that his bodily appear-

ance was no hindrance to reach the Divine in him,

but was rather the vehicle by which to approach

it. It was as though, through Jesus, God himself

came out into thq visible world, inviting and

alluring all who saw him to admire and to worship

God in him. If at the time of Jesus' sojourn on

the earth, man had been what he was before the

fall in paradise, the perfect God would at once

have been recognized in Jesus. But with the

blinded eye of the soul sinful man could not do

this; it was impossible. God was there in Jesus,

but the world could not see him. The eye of

the soul had been bandaged. And only when Godhimself had removed this bandage could man see

God in Jesus.

The eye of the soul is not something apart

from the soul. It is rather the sum total of all

its powers by which it perceives, becomes con-

13.5

scious, discovers and enjoys. Spiritual seeing is

feeling, perceiving, becoming aware of environ-ments with all the latent powers of the soul. It

is the internal awakening of human nature, which,created after the image of God, goes back to its

original image, has clear vision of the relation

between image and original, between image andimpression, imprints it upon its own sense of self

(self-consciousness) and thus learns to know Godwith an inner knowledge. Only in this way hashuman nature in Jesus apprehended God in full

and known him. Human nature in its totality

is not in every one of us, but only a variation of

it in one particular, definite form. In Jesus alonehuman nature as a whole was embodied. He,therefore, was called the Son of Man. Jesus wasnot only God, but He alone of all men fully

apprehended and understood the Father. "Noman knoweth the Father but the Son, and heto whom the Son will reveal him." By our-

selves, therefore, and if left to ourselves, no oneof us can apprehend God with the sense of the

soul, nor see him with the eye of the soul. Jesus

alone was able to do this, and is able to do so

still, but not we. Only when we go to Jesus andenter into fellowship with him is the way to this

open to us, whereby we become living membersof this mystical body of which he is the head.And then not only do we see God in Jesus, butGod also comes to tabernacle in us by the HolyGhost. Philip, have I been so long time withyou, and do you still say: Show me the Father?He that hath seen me hath seen the Father in

me and through me, your Spvior.

136

"WITH ALL THY SOUL."

When the question is raised whether there is

one that seeks after God, the Psalmist denies it

and bitterly complains: ''They are all gone

aside, there is none that doeth good, no, not one.

There is none that understandeth, there is none

that seeketh after God" (14:3). But was the

singer insincere when in the ear of the ages he

sang' so touchingly : "As the heart panteth after

the water brooks, so panteth my soul after Thee,

O God" (42:1). Or did Asaph dissemble a state

of soul, which would have been self-deceit, when

he said: "Nevertheless, I am continually with

Thee?" (Ps. 73:23). By no means. The question

meant whether by nature there was one man in

whose heart the magnetic drawing is after God,

even in such a degree as to overcome every

resistance and hindrance. The answer to this is:

no, and ever again: no. There is no such draw-

ing in the human heart. It has been corrupted

and crippled and is no longer what it was byDivine creation, but what it has become by self-

delusion. The number of those who take religion

seriously is small, and much smaller yet the num-ber of those who recover the true type of piety.

Take these, together with those who seem relig-

ious, and watch them and listen as they talk, and

we find them superficial and mechanical to an

amazing degree. We rarely meet with a seeking

soul that makes it a business to draw near to

God, and to find him. Even in prayer, in church

or at home, the question can sometimes scarcely

137

be repressed: Does this man or woman, when theAmen has passed the hps, come away from God,or has the soul, even in devotions, been as far as

ever away from him?Undoubtedly there are always some who in

praj'-er and at other times seek fellowship withGod in their heart. Upon inquiry, however, welearn that the magnetic drawing did not originate

with themselves, but that God drew them. Wedo not know why Divine power operates in thecase of one and not of another. The fact remainsthat as the magnet draws the steel to itself, Godcan draw the soul. And when he does, the draw-ing is irresistible, i^nd the soul seeks Godbecause God draws it.

Is the approach of the soul to God through theunderstanding, will, feeling or imagination, or is

it through an inexplicable mysterious workingwhich we can not name? The answer differs

according to those who give it. The one attributes

it to intellectual and doctrinal knowledge of God;the other to the fellowship of love; a' third tosubmission of the will ; a fourth to visions ; a fifth

to inspirations, and the more people are asked,the more widely the answers differ. Here dispo-

sition and temperament play the chief role. Thesubtle, analytical investigator of ideas and defini-

tions entrenches himself in strong doctrinal con-fessions; the man of action, in devotion to prac-

tical ends; he whose nature is finely strung, in thenote of pensive longing which he elicits from his

p'^irt'ons; and the imaginative mind, inclined tofancies of every sort, in representations andingenious imagery. Every one after his own kind,

we may say. Such is the case now, and so it was

138

in times past. From ancient writings we see peo-ple of the long ago live and move before us, andthings oi the past appear like things of thepresent. All sorts of currents and schools andtendencies of thought are ever abroad, one onewaj' and the other another. Unanimity there is

none. Seeking God with all the heart is unknown.This shows that the preference for one method

of seeking God bars the way to other equallyefiicasious methods of doing the same, and that

God's children should freely employ all methodsin order to be wholly free in their communionwith the Eternal. God is not found by one powerof soul in distinction from another, but by all

the soul. God is not apprehended by humanknowledge, or will, or play of imagination, but bythe knowing, willing and thinking soul as a whole,in its inner unity and soundness. Ray by rayshines in, but all are caught in the focus of thesoul-life in process of becoming aware of itself

and of its environments, and the act of catchingall these rays is called faith.

Here, too, the diflaculty springs from the inwardruin occasioned by sin, which is still esteemed toolightly, because it is sought too exclusively withinthe scope of morals. The injury worked by sin is

only fully known when its fatal effects are tracedin religion. Things become far more importantwhen it concerns our relation to God. For in con-nection with this everything centers in the first

and great commandment: To love God with all

the soul and with all the strength. This is pos-

sible. The soul was created and equipped for this.

It can safely be said that when the soul operatesnormally it can not do otherwise than direct itself

139

altogether and with all its strength to God. Inno other realm of life, therefore, does it showmore strongly than in religion how utterly

abnormal the soul has become by sin. And theworst of it is, that in this matter of religion thesoul itself is so little conscious of it. He whohas committed a crime knows it, and finds no dif-

ficulty on his knees in confessing it before God.With the finer forms of transgression in moralsthis inner sense may fail us, but with the coarser

forms of sin the conscience almost always speaksin every man. But when the first and great com-mandment is violated, almost no one is consciousof it. Thousands upon thousands every day denyGod all love, withdraw their whole soul fromhim. rob him of all their strength, and thus in

the matter of religion they are hardened crim-inals, who do not even know that they sin. Evenwith the saved, who have confessed to love God,the case is nearly the same. For some amongthese give God only a small part of their soul,

work for him indifferently with only a few of

their powers, and as they kneel in prayer at nightare quite unconscious of the fact, that they havebroken the larger part of the first and great com-mandment.This fatal defect shows itself when the powers

of soul, which by reason of disposition and tem-perament are most prepared to act, and whichtherefore require the least sacrifice of self, are

given free rein. When a man who is naturallyintellectual becomes pious, he applies himself to

doctrine. If to know the only true God is

eternal life, he makes himself doctrinally strong.

He has nothing to do with knowledge of God140

that is obtained along other Hnes than those of

close, analytical studies, and in these he is pro-

ficient. With utmost pains he traces what the

great thinkers have put into their several doc-trinal systems regarding the Being, Work, Personand Attributes of God. On this he ponders. Tohim it appeals. He prides himself on it before

others. He really thinks that in this way he hasacquired the true knowledge of God. No, says

another, Jesus has said that he who doeth thewill of his Father who is in heaven, shall knowthe glories of the faith. As a man of action,

therefore, he gives liberally of his means, labors

with zeal and enthusiasm, in which few equaland none surpass him, brings willing offerings oneafter another, and with all his strength devoteshimself to the interests of the kingdom—but hehas a dislike for all doctrinal niceties. He makesno confe^ion with words. The all importantthing with him is confession in practical life. Athird has no interest either in doctrine or in

works, but is emotional. He, therefore, seeks his

strength in tender feelings, soulful utterances,

mystical perceptions of love, and thinks that in

these he comes closer to God. Imagination is

the part of fantasy with another who seeks to

establish his strength in visions and mystical rep-

resentations, and in the contemplation of the

things which his soul-eye discerns he is mosthappy. Did not St. Paul glory in rare exaltations

of spirit and in being caught up into higher

spheres? Add to these, inspirations, suggestions,

experiences in which the soul is aware of suddenmotions, and so much more, and it is readily seen

that impressions and motions of soul differ

141

greatl3' when a man becomes inwardly athirst for

God.The pity of it is that so far from realizing

that all these w^orkings, powers and exertions are

bound to express themselves in love of God, sothat loving God with all the soul may becomereal, the children of God, for the most part, holdthemselves back within their own retreat, seekGod with only one power of their soul, and notinfrequently criticize a brother who seeks salva-

tion by the use of another soul-power than theythemselves employ. "With all thy soul," said

Jesus. "With a part of my soul," they reply.

And just because they are truly pious and sincere

of purpose, they do not tremble at the thoughtof leaving the rest of their soul inactive for God.

I SAW ALSO THE LORD.

"And this is life eternal, that they might knowThee, the Only true God." But then we mustnot only know God intellectually, but with everypower at our disposal. As knowledge it must bethe result and summary of every observation andperception. In connection wuth this at once thequestion arises whether imagination, or more gen-erally, the power of representation, plays a partin this. A superficial mind inclines to answer this

Spirit means that all corporeity and materiality

must be excluded from it, no manifestation of

negatively. For God is Spirit. And if the wordGod is possible in any way whatever. If all out-

ward divine manifestation is unthinkable, howcan we make a representation of God. We can

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make forms and figures of idols after the mannerof heathen nations, but these are contrivancespure and simple. And in this matter of knowingGod, which is eternal life, we have no interest in

cunningly constructed fabrications. We wantreality. Hence we would say that there can beno representation of God, no outward manifesta-tion of him can show itself, for the reason thathis absolute spirituality excludes every idea of

matter, form or dimension.But however convincing this maj' seem, it does

not end the matter. How can we interpret

Isaiah's words in the narrative of his vision-call

(6:1)? Including the record of the vear in whichit happened he declares: ''I also saw the Lordsitting upon a throne, high and lifted up, andhis train filled the temple."We leave the question unanswered whether

Isaiah saw some outside appearance, or whethersomething presented itself to him in his innerrange of vision. It is enough that God mani-fested himself to the prophet in such a way that

it enabled him to give a description of it in

writing. It was an appearance which took sucha forcible hold upon him. in connection withwhich so many things took place, and whichresulted in such important prophecies, that it

affected all his after life.

We who in his inspirations and prophecieshonor the work of the Holy Ghost, can not takethis vision of his call as a meaningless productof an unhealthy imagination. There was reality

in this v^ision, and an action on the part of God.And we conclude that among the many means bywhich God can make himself known to man, he

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has also used observable representation, howevertransient.

In the New. as well as in the Old Testament,we read repeatedly of angel-appearances and of

appearances of the Messiah before his incarna-

tion. And are not angels spirits like God him-self, incorporeal and immaterial? We hearrepeatedly that angels appear, and speak and act.

The angel that smote the armies of Sennacheribstands in line with the angel that led Peter outof prison. Before his incarnation the existence

of Christ was purely spiritual, but with him theoutward manifestation, and with it the clear rep-

resentation, went so far in ancient times that thepatriarch received him in his tent and enter-

tained him with a meal at his table. It is well

known that this is scoffed at, and that it is put to

the score of innocent fiction; but less superficial

psychology is not satisfied with this, and inclines

to attach to such an account a much higher, innervalue. When during his earthly ministry Christ

accepted the Old Testament records of suchappearances literally, including those whichreferred to himself, and ratified them in their

immediate signification, what other conclusion canwe reach, than that a certain appearance and acertain representation, of a Being which like thatof God is purely spiritual by itself, is not unthink-able.

The Scripture always pictures this appearanceand representation in the religious hfe, with humanfeatures. In connection with the Cherubim weread of animal forms, of a lion and so on, whichserve to represent great power and glory. But in

every meeting with man the appearance of an

angel, of the Messiah, or as in Isaiah 6, of the

Eternal Being himself, takes place in human form,in human dress, and with the use of human lan-

guage. With appearances of angels there is nomention of wings, borrowed from the animalworld; of these we read in connection withSeraphs surrounding God's throne.

The fixed application of the human form in this

connection is significant. The appearance of

spirits in human form is immediately connectedwith the creation of man after God's image.Christ himself is called the Image of the Invisible

God, "the express Image of his person." And weare told that man is created after this Image, sothat there is a certain likeness between these two.What then could have been more natural thanthat the Eternal God, in order to reveal himselfto man, either by himself or by his angels, shouldhave passed over from himself to his Image, andfrom his Image to man? The very thought thatthere is an Image of God implies that it is a mis-take to think that there can be no distinction andno expression in a spirit. It shows that God'slife by itself is not an unbroken sameness, butthat it consists of an infinite yet undivided ful-

ness of distinctions, and that this varied life whichis continually present with him in his conscious-ness, is to him the Image of his Divine Being.In any case it is certain that when God created

man after his Image, this Image was there beforehe could create man after it. And also that this

Image has always provided the way by which toreveal himself to man in human form. This wasonly completed in the fulness of time at Bethle-hem, though it was foreshadowed in previous

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appearances. In connection, therefore, with the

knowledge of God, which is eternal life, the imag-inative life of our spirit must also be considered.

The key to this secret is, that spirit and matter,

God and the world, are distinguished from oneanother in such a way that it can never beignored. For if we do we are, whether we will or

not, irresistibly drawn into Pantheism. While onthe other hand it can not be denied that Godhas created the world, so that whatever there is

in the world can never express anything else thanwhat has been thought out by God, even the

Word from all eternity. Likewise as regards oursoul and body, it must be inexorably maintained,that these are two, even in this sense, that after

death the soul continues its life in the disem-bodied state until the resurrection. Though again

it should not be forgotten that soul and bodycomplement one another, and that the soul canonly reveal the fulness of its power through the

body.This gives rise to a threefold realm of activity.

One is the realm of pure spiritual activity.

Another is the realm of activity through and withthe aid of the body. And there is also a mixeddomain, in which the spirit truly operates purelyspiritually^ but with data from the world of sense.

The use of images in spoken language can notbe reckoned with this. We know by these thatwe mean something metaphorical, something out-

side of reality. When the righteous is said to beas courageous as a lion, everyone understands that

it does not mean a real, devouring beast. But it

is different in dreams. Then we see people andco-operate with them. We engage in conversa-

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tion. We are attacked. And everything seems soreal to us that on awakening in fright, we find

it difficult to believe that the burglar who threat-ened our life does not stand by our bed.This impression of reality in what is imagined

is still stronger and much more acute in a vision.One can almost say that visions are dreamswhich one dreams not in sleep upon the bed, butby day, while one is fully awake. And thoughthis vision-life is far more common in the Eastthan it is with us, yet it is a mistake to supposethat it does not exist among us. Meanwhile anappearance far excels in clearness and reality bothdream and vision. That we feel so little at homein this realm is only explained from the fact thatscience can not tell anything about these spiritua,!

operations. It lacks sufficient, certain data forobservation, and has not been able thus far toenter this mysterious domain. Before this worldof real workings, it stands helpless. This encour-ages unbelieving science proudly to deny thereality of it, while believing science, confessing its

inability to grasp it, gratefully accepts what hasbeen revealed regarding it in Scripture.We should be on our guard therefore lest we say

that in connection with our knowledge of Godthe imaginative life has no message for us. Theintellectual man who asserts this, contradictsScripture all too boldly. The second command-ment certainly binds us; that is to say, it for-bids us to make an image of God, even in ourimagination. The imaginative life may operatein behalf of the knowledge of God, when Godquickens it in us; as in the case of Isaiah's visionof his call, or in the appearances to Abraham.

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This forming of images has at last been per-

fected in the "human nature" of Christ. Afterhe had entered into glory, Christ appeared to St.

John on Patmos in his human nature and the

manner of this appearance has been committedto writing for us. This is the only appearanceof Christ, given to the church, that may andshould govern our imaginative life.

To this we add that in a child of God evenhere something of his Father is manifest. Thenobler the Christian life, the more this is visible.

The weaker the Christian life, the less apparentit is. But when a Christian life is deeply spiritual,

they who are equally devout, see through it, as

it. were, something of the Image of the EternalGod. From this it follows that if we are God'schildren it is our high calling, not by our imag-ination, but by the image-forming manifestationof our entire personality to cause something of

the Father to be seen by those who are of the

household of faith.

29

'TF ANY MAN WILL DO HIS WILL."

In behalf of the knowledge of God there is

great power in conformity to his will. Godbecomes known to us by studious thought, byplay of the imagination, by inner experience andin other ways. But it can not be denied that healso becomes known to us by the will. Withinthe last fifty years the will has been put in the

foreground, by which to interpret many things

which no one associated with it before. An impor-tant school of philosophy has emphasized the will

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to such an extent that the significance of the

other activities of the human spirit has suffered

serious loss. The fundamental position of this

school is that the will alone determines things,

accomplishes things, creates reality, and makesitself known as a power ; and that the more deeply

one studies the question the more irresistibly oneis forced to acknowledge that the will is the onlypower that governs and employs all other powers.

This was confirmed by history. It is observed in

the present. In every department of life the manof will exercises authority and overrides the weak.From man we have learned the wonderful powerof will. Similar phenomena have been traced in

the animal-world, but too little is known of this

to build on. And so it has seemed safest to makethe power to will, as it showed itself in man, thestarting point.

But, of course, it could not stop with this. Thephenomenon of the will is too great, and its dom-inance too prevalent, than that it can exist in manotherwise than derivatively. In the original state

of things the will existed outside of man, and manhimself was the product of the great supremeUniversal-will that brought all things to pass.

What until now had been worshipped in the worldas God, or had been denounced as Satan, wasaccording to this school nothing but that Uni-versal-will, the gigantic will-power by whicheverything is what it is. The world shows any-thing but wisdom and less love. It is but the

product of monstrous will-power. Hence the

unsatisfying condition of its life. And since in

us also, on a small scale, there is a will with

power of will, the supreme duty of human life

is to train the will, to develop it, to apply it tomighty deeds, and with this strongly trainedhuman will to maintain ourselves in the face of

the Universal-will. Hence everything that is, andeverything that is called history, and life itself

is reduced to one power, and the only thing thatis supremely high and holy is our personal will.

That the philosophic school which oracled like

this is diametrically opposed to all religion, andmore especially to the Christian religion, needsno demonstration. But it is noteworthy that theChristian religion in the Christian church, simul-taneously revealed an allied tendency, which like-

wise put the will in the foreground, and at lengthsubordinated every other utterance of the Chris-tian faith to it. We mean that religious tendencywhich interprets the confession with ever greaterliberality, which allows feeling and sentiment everless opportunity of being heard, and shows evermore the need and inclination to exhibit Chris-tianity solely and alone in works and display ofpower, that is to say, in utterances of the will.

This idea and inclination was not born nor takenfrom this philosophic school, but owed its rise

to an universal phenomenon, which shows itself

in human life. The healthful Reformation in

the ecclesiastical world was followed first by thebarren period of dogmatics in the 17th century,and after that by the period of emotional religion

in the 18th century. As neither the one nor theother proved satisfactory, and as it becameevident that between these two, Christianity waslosing strength, it naturally came to pass thatwith the depreciation of subtle credal statements,and an increasing distaste for weak emotionalism,

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another extreme was reached in the effort torealize the Christian spirit in acts of the will.

Not the hearer, but the doer of the law shall

be holy. Not every one that sayeth, Lord, Lord,but he that doeth the will of my Father who is

in heaven shall be saved. If any one doethHis will, he shall know of the doctrine, whetherit be of God (John 7:17). In brief, in behalf of

this new effort, many clear and strong utterancesof Holy Scripture could be cited. Thus a tend-ency found an open door in every direction, whichcould boast of its meritorious exhibition of Chris-tian works, but with this drawback always, thatit under-estimated both the confessional state-ments of the church and mysticism.The well-known fact that in the Christian

stmggle of the 19th century English Christiansstood in the front ranks, was a powerful aid inthis direction. The period of concise confessionalstatements was dominated by Switzerland, Franceand the Netherlands. The emotional period hadbeen brought into prominence by German andFrench sentimentalists. But with the 19th cen-tury England appeared in the foreground. Eng-land with its matter-of-fact system, its commer-cial spirit and cool determination of will. FromEngland the thirst after deeds crossed over to thecontinent of Europe, and what this tendency-of-will accomplished in the interests of philanthropyand missions can never be fully appreciated. It

gave birth to a new life and encouraged the desireto exercise power. It simultaneously put to

shame the barren and meagre results of intel-

lectual orthodoxy, and the weak and sickly fruit

of sentimental mysticism. It inspired a willing-

ness to give. It inspired a devotion and an energyof faith such as had not been in evidence amongus since the daj^s of the Reformation. In theSalvation Army, which is the most sharply definedexhibition of this tendency and at the same timeits crudest expression, there showed itself a many-sided activity in behalf of the poor and the unfor-tunate which aroused sympathy even in unbeliev-ing hearts.

The onesidedness, however, of this movementis a matter of regret, since it incurred the dangerof abandoning justification by faith, and of puttingin its place salvation by good works. The centerof gravity was transferred too much from God toman. The outward supplanted the inward life

of piety. And as on the part of unbelievers therewas great and self-sacrificing activity along phil-

anthropic lines, it soon became evident that peo-ple of this "Gospel of works" felt themselves in

closer sympathy with unbelievers who shared their

ideal of works than with the confessors of Christ,

who fell short of it. And what cut more deeplystill is that real religion, which is the searchafter fellowship with God, was undeniably moreand more lost in this Gospel of the Will. Therewas too much lack of loveable, tender piety. Thedelicate plant of devotion became more and moremouldy. And both in preaching and in privateconversation the hidden walk with God, the quietways of the secret of redemption, salvation byfaith and being hid in Christ received ever less

attention, until at length nothing more was heardof it. Everything had to be doing, nothing butdoing. All that was asked for was facts and still

again facts. The method came in vogue to com-

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pute these deeds in numbers, and from high figures

to infer that God crowned the work with blessing.

There were statistics of converts, of moneys raised,

of society memberships, of the hungry that hadbeen fed, of the naked that had been clothed, of

the sick that had been healed. And flattery onaccount of such showing was not always unaccept-able.

And when it w^as objected that Christianity in

this way was externalized, and that the knowl-edge of God which is eternal life was relegated

to the book of forgetfulness, the answer was, thatthis surmise rested upon a misunderstanding, since

true knowledge of God does not come through theintellect, and not through emotion, but throughthe will. He who doeth the will of God knoweththe Eternal. This pretext will be examined in thefollowing meditation.

"INCREASING IN THE KNOWLEDGEOF GOD."

He that doeth the will of God naturally growsthereby in the knowledge of God. Of two per-sons, the one who is careful and conscientious inhis confession, but careless as to his manner oflife, has less chance to know the Lord than theother who is careful and conscientious in his man-ner of life, but indifferent in his confession. Theso-called practical Christianity, the tendencywhich seeks salvation in christian works, wascorrect to this extent, that doing the will of Godis certainly one of the means which is indispen-sable to him who would have a full knowledgeof God.

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If the knowledge of God is eternal life, Divineknowledge can not be something apart from life.

Do not forget, eternal life is not life hereafter.

It is a life which does not spring from the cistern,

but from the fountain. Such knowledge of Godwhich is itself eternal life is unthinkable, there-

fore, apart from practical life. When a will

operates in all our works, and when our works areonly good when they conform to the will of

God, it is evident that there is a connectionbetween the knowledge of God and the doing of

his will.

The ox knoweth his owner, Isaiah tells us, butIsrael does not understand. We would say: Ahorse knows his rider. The draft-ox is not muchused among us. But how does he know his

owner, or the horse his rider? Certainly in partby the eye and by the ear, but even more bythe manner in which they are treated. When therider comes up from behind, so that the horsedoes not see him, and utters no word or sound,so that the animal does not hear him, the thor-oughbred knows his rider at once, and knowsimmediately whether his rider or a strangersprings into the saddle. A good riding-horseknows the will of his rider. He knows it evenso well that at length horse and rider become one,and on the field of battle the horse will do his

rider's wish, even with loosened bridle. Thus bycareful training the animal has obtained suchknowledge of his owner that to him it has becomea living subordinate instrument.

Likewise the child of God that has lived accord-

ing to God's will, and at the hand of that will

itself has conformed himself to it. has come

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to an instinctive knowledge of God such as no

Catechism or Confession can impart. We do not

say that this knowledge thus obtained is the

only knowledge of God, nor that it is sufficient,

nor that it offers satisfactory clearness; all we

mean to say is: that doing God's will introduces

a trait of its own into the knowledge of God,

which is indispensable if that knowledge is to be

a living knowledge, and which can not be

replaced by anything else, be it understanding

or feeling.. , i u

Take the case of forgiving those who have

trespassed against us. As children of God we

well know that this is our duty. We know it

even so well that we are well aware that the

matter is not ended when we are outwardly kind

and return no evil for evil. Christian forgiveness

goes farther and deeper than this. It must be

honest forgiveness without any reservation. Our

greatest enemy must be forgiven. Those who

curse us we must bless. We must love those who

despitefully use us. Consider it carefully: we

must love our enemy. We must not show him

love that we might exhibit our generosity. Ihis,

in fact, can only humiliate him. No, we must

love him as ourselves. It is almost incompre-

hensible, yet such is the command. As it is

prayed in the Our Father: Forgive us our tres-

passes, as we forgive those who trespass against

us To forgive from love is the measure of the

forgiveness of sin which we ask of God for our-

selves. Not as though God could be bound to

our measure, or forgive us because we forgive.

That would be turning the Gospel around. But

it signifies that we dare not ask more of God than

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what we know is in our hearts to do to ourdebtors.

All this only shows that when in forgiving ourenemy we do the will of God, we learn to knowwhat it is to forgive, what it is to receive fromGod the mind and the will to forgive, and whatit is to come to the knowledge of God as regardshis mind and will to forgive us. He who him-self does not forgive, who in opposition to God'swill harbors hatred in his heart, and does not con-form himself to God's will in this matter of for-

giveness, lacks this particular knowledge of God,which makes it clear how God forgives him.From this one example it clearly appears that

doing the will of God increases the knowledge of

God; not metaphorically, not unreally, but in

deed and in truth.

There is still something else to be learned fromthis. The practical 'Gospel of Works" putsspecial emphasis upon doing extra things; thingswhich are outside of he ordinary life. By pref-

erence, therefore, it speaks of "Christian works,"by which it means things outside the ordinarylife of business, family and society, such as zeal

for missions, visiting the poor, care for the sick

and blind. And in part this interpretation is

instinctively correct. When Christianity goes outinto the world nothing of all this can stay behind.It all belongs to it. True, genuine Christianitycan not be satisfied with inspiring ordinary life

alone. It brings with it all sorts of things whichremain unknown without it. Only it is a great

mistake to suppose that the roses that growagainst the wall are the main thing, and that the

wall itself can be left to fall into ruins.

No, the doing of God's will covers all of life,

the ordinary as well as the extraordinary, and

the knowledge of God's will in common life is far

finer, more intricate and more difficult than it is

in those extraordinary things. To know what

God's will is in our personal life, in our busmess

or profession, in the family with its several con-

nections, in society and in the world in general,

is a study that is never ended on this side of the

grave. To learn not only what God's will is mit all, but to bend the mind according to it, and

to conform the life to it, even to its minutest

detail, is not only a daily study, but a daily

struggle, in which he alone triumphs who is led

by the Spirit of God.He who appHes himself to this, who makes this

his daily task, learns to understand Gods will,

and with every victory gained increases also in

the knowledge of God. A knowledge which he

does not acquire with his understanding, but with

his whole personality. The more we begin to

*-el as God feels, and the more we become mimied

ao God is, the more truly do we become children

of the Father who is in heaven. For then we will

not think that we do the will of God, when only

once in a while there is heroic self-demal. tJut

we will understand that to do the will of God is

to be so changed of mind and inclination that we

ourselves wiU what God wills. And he who

attains unto this and is daily engaged in this, of

himself increases in the knowledge of God by

increasing in the knowledge of himself.

This wUl be plain when we remember that

Being and Will in God are not two, but one.

God's will is the crystal-pure expression of his

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Being. Hence knowledge of God's will becomesof itself knowledge of his Being. The one cannot be separated from the other. Only this: thewill of God can only be truly known in the wayof the will. To know the Ten Commandmentsby heart, and to make a list from the Scriptures

of every utterance of God's will, does not justify

a man in the least for saying that he knows thewill of God. He may know it from memory, butthe will is within, and can only be known within,

by having the personal will enter into the will of

God.He who in a book on the art of navigation has

read what a captain has to do in times of storm,does not know what it is to pilot a ship into

a safe harbor. This is only known to him whohas himself been out at sea in command of a shipin a storm and has brought it safely to port.

Likewise the knowledge of God's will is notacquired by learning lessons in morality by heart,

but with the organ of our own will God's will

must be so understood that we ourselves fulfill

it. And thus only in the-way-of-the-will do wecome to that knowledge of God, which can onlybe learned in this way.We should not criticize therefore the Gospel

of works, as though it had no use. On the con-trary, it is absolutely indispensable. Only it mustgain in depth. It must be applied to all of life.

It should also be clearly understood that so far

from being all the knowledge of God, the knowl-edge of his will is only a part of it. Forsooth,it is an indispensable part, but only in unionwith the other knowledge of God, which is

obtained through the understanding, feeling and158

imagination, does it form one whole. All thesetogether constitute that full knowledge of God,which is eternal life. Only do not lose from sight

that the daily increase in the knowledge of God is

obtained solely and alone in the way of the will.

There is a two-fold will of God: the one is overus, the other is concerning us. The will of Godover us determines our life, our career and ourlot in life. It was with reference to this will of

God that Jesus prayed: Not my will, but thywill be done. But the will of God concerning usshows us how to will, what to do and to leaveundone; and regarding this will of God we prayin the Our Father: Thy will be done as in

heaven by the angels, so also on earth by me.And it is this second, this last-named will of Godwhich if we li^'e m it, and conform ourselves toit, unconsciously makes us increase day by dayin the knowledge of God.

31

"BESIDE THE STILL WATERS."

If there is a desire to know God, the will mustbe studied still more closely. In the days of ourfathers the field, in which the will operates, wasnot suflBciently plowed and harrowed. The greatquestion was whether the will was free or bound.For the rest, even in preaching and in catechising,

the supreme significance of the will was ignored.Is not even now almost the whole realm of thewill left fallow?Of course this does not mean to say, that both

in the times of our fathers, and in our own past,

there has been no increase in the knowledge of

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God through the will. How could this be other-wise? The will does not come into action bywhat is written about it in a book, or preachedon it from the pulpit. It is the Lord who inspires

the will to act, and in action to direct it for good.It is he "who worketh in you both to will andto do his good pleasure" (Phil. 2:13), and howcould the Lord be bound to sermon or lecture?

We only mean that he who is so fortunate andblessed as not only morning by morning and even-ing by evening to be refreshed with a drop ofgrace from the fountain of Divine Compassion,but also to have time and insight to meditate onholy things, does wrong when he neglects theinvestigation of such an important component partof the power of the soul as the will. This makespoor; while to give one's mind to it makes rich.

For the will is inscrutably wonderful. In thecreation of the soul it constitutes a marvelouspiece of Divine workmanship, and it is so deeplyengraven a trait of the image of God, whichreflects itself in us, that to leave it unstudiedbetokens lack of reverence and wonder. It is,

moreover, so mighty a tool that the thoughtlessuse of it readily does harm.We must also distinguish between times and

times. There is a time of childhood followed bythat of early youth, when we live by instinct, andare not able to give a reason for the acts of thewill. But then there comes a time when thetroubled waters settle, and the mirror of the con-sciousness becomes clear, and we begin to think.

Our age is farther advanced than that of ourfathers, because it is older. Earlier instinctive

life gradually becomes a conscious life. He who160

takes no part in this transition is left in the rear.

The whole church will understand that she

loses power when she adheres to the old, withoutharmonizing her insight into the past with theclaims of our clarified consciousness. She thenloses her touch upon life. Her preaching doesnot join itself to what stirs and moves in theworld. She does not equip the faithful withneeded armor, and becomes herself the cause,

that in ever weaker positions in the conflict of

spirits she is incapacitated. Confess, in timessuch as these, when in every way the will hasbecome the object of investigation and thought,will it do for Christians to act as though theknowledge of the will did not concern them?Here we confine ourselves to our subject. It

is the aim of these meditations to bring the soul

into secret fellowship with God. This requires

knowledge of God, even that knowledge which is

itself eternal life. In that knowledge of Godwe must increase. And this increase is more pos-

sible through the will than through the under-standing. This is the point which we emphasize.

The holy apostle expresses it so clearly: ''Walkworthy of the Lord unto all pleasing, wherebywe shall be fruitful in every good work, and at

the same time increase in the knowledge of

God" (Col. 1:10),

He who bends his will so that at length he hasno other will than to forgive his debtor, comesthrough his own will to the knowledge of thecompassionate God who forgives him. To Godforgiveness is no outward rule, which he applies.

To forgive proceeds from his will. And this will

to forgive proceeds from his Being. If we come

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to will like this of ourselves, we become con-formed to our Father who is in heaven. Thewords of Jesus: Be ye perfect, as your Fatherwho is in heaven is perfect, are then realized in

us; they are realized in this particular; and con-scious that we are of the family of God wecome to this knowledge of God, which is not alesson learned by rote, but which proceeds fromour divine relationship itself. Do we understandthe beauty and godliness of this?

All men are not alike either in mental capacityor in the disposal of time. Some are able toanalyze all things and to study them out deeplyand accurately. But more by far can not dothis. We would not call them stupid for this

reason, but as a matter of fact few people canmake exhaustive studies of every part of ourglorious confession. They simply can not do it.

They have not the ability. Freedom of time also

differs greatly in given circumstances. The day-laborer, who is away from home from morninguntil night has little or no time' for the studyof sacred things, especially as compared with theclergy or professors of Theolog>% who can devoteall day to it. And apart from time, opportunities

differ widely. Such study requires education,books and retirement. And see the difference

between a farm-hand at the plow and a university

trained clergyman in his study, who is well sup-plied with books.

If we take the knowledge of God as consisting

mainly of book knowledge; if we say that theknowledge of God obtained in this way is eternal

life, are wc not cruel? For does not this imply

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that eternal life is a right that belongs to the

man of study, and not to the swain who follows

sheep? And we know this can Dot be true. Tf

the knowledge of God is eternal life, the increase

in this knowledge must be for sale for somethingwhich is at every one's disposal, the professor in

his study, the day-laborer at his work, the busymother in her home. This brings us of itself to

the will. Intellectual attainment is not enough.Many students of great learning appear to haveno knowledge of God at all, while many hard-working plain souls exhale the fragrance of eternal

life.

Here we touch the sensitive nerve of life itself.

In every person operates a will. It comes into

action every day. The will is in all and is active

in everything. The working, the action, the powerof the will, its impulse and passion may differ

widely, but without will there is no action, nodeed, no career in life. Every difference betweenman and man here falls away. Every one faces

it daily for himself. In whatever high or lowposition one finds himself, there is a will thatwills, a will that operates. It proceeds in a quietand peaceful way. It is not something apartthat is added to life. It is the urgency of life

itself that beats and throbs in every artery.

Softly, by the side of very quiet waters, this

action of the will continues all day long through-out life. It is a never resting, but an ever newly-fed stream of choice of will, decision of will,

action of will, continually, quietly rippling along,bearing life company and partly carrying it.

Thus by these utterances of the will it is in thepower of every one to continuously increase in

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the knowledge of God, and thereby to obtain ever

larger possession and fuller enjoyment of eternal

life, provided we separate this utterance of the

will less and less from the will of God and derive

it more and more from the will of God. Thusevery idea of cruelty falls away. Whether life is

limited or large, makes no difference. Eventhough it wears on like the quiet flow of a gentle

stream, every day the knowledge of God can beenriched by it, and we can increase in everlasting

life; a queen on her throne as well as the farm-

hand behind the plow, a professor in his study

who is no better than he who moves the shuttle

in the loom.This goes softly, as by the side of very still

waters, and the glory of it is that it asks for noextra time outside of the daily life. Every kind

of learning demands special time. The daily task

is broken up for it. Special time must be set

apart for it. On the part of many people this

is almost impossible. For most people's life is

a mill which never stops. But even this is nodrawback to the knowledge of God through "the

willing of the will." For the will never operates

outside of, but always in the life. Whether,therefore, you walk behind a plow, or stand

behind the school-desk, or care for your children

at home, or nurse the sick, it is all the same. It

is all utterance and activity of will. And pro-

vided we do not oppose our will to the will of

God, and do not diverge from it, but bend our

will after God's will, it is all one process of

activity, whereby we increase in the knowledge of

God, in order through this knowledge to mature

in eternal life.

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32

'WHO WORKETH IN YOU TO WILL."

By doing willingly what God wills us to do,

we increase in the knowledge of God; not in

barren book-knowledge, but in living soul-knowl-

edge, which is itself eternal life. This springs

from all sorts of causes, but not least from the

fact that our willingness is not born from us, but

is wrought in us by God. "He it is, writes the

apostle, who worketh in you both to will and to

do of his good pleasure" (Phil. 2:13). Hencethere is first the willing, after that the W9rking

through and according to our will, and while wework this action of the will in the soul, it is Godwho worketh it in us. It is self-evident that in

this connection this last distinction must be made.

Otherwise our willingness would merely be on

the surface, and the child of God, in good works,

would merely be a puppet moved mechanically.

This distinction should be clearly understood.

We ourselves will, not because of ourselves, but

because God so worketh in us, that now we our-

selves truly and actually will to do thus and not

otherwise. It takes some pains to see this clearly,

and it is easy to follow the advice not to con-

cern ourselves with the several distinctions. Butwhen we lend our ear to this advice of spiritual

sloth, we do ourselves a wrong.Ask any physician how many distinctions he

makes in a single group of nerves, or how manydifferences he observes in germs of disease in the

blood. And will it do, that so much pains are

taken in behalf of the body, which perishes, andnot in behalf of the soul, which is so much moreprecious? But this tendency prevails. While

165

almost every one has some sort of a manuel,illustrated if possible, from which to learn howthe body is constructed, nothing is read aboutthe soul. By far the larger numbers of peopledo not investigate it, but speak at random aboutthe soul, and about the will, and the understand-ing, and everything is in a chaos, and so most'people continue all their lives strangers to their

own inner selves. Everything else can be described.

One is familiar with his house, village or city,

and sometimes also with foreign lands. But thekey to the chambers and vaults of his own soulhas never been found. And since lack of self-

knowledge is punished with meagre knowledge of

God, one deprives himself of his share in theeternal life, which far excels all things else. Wetherefore urge the remembrance of the distinc-

tion that has been made. When a martyr says:

I will die for the name of the Lord Jesus, hemust himself will to do it. It must be his ownact. But that he himself so wills it, does not bynature spring from himself. It is wrought in himby God.To illustrate: Bring to your mind a ship. It

has an helm. Attached to the helm is the tiller,

and this is held in the hand of the boatswain.If at sea the ship moves with the suction of windand waves, without being directed, every timethe ship turns the helm turns, and with it thetiller, and with the tiller the hand and the armof the man. This is the image of a man without

a will. He is adrift on the sea of life. As the

wind and waves move, so moves he, subject to

the currents and influences from within and fromwithout, of inclinations and of circumstances. As

life moves him along, so he goes, and so turns

the rudder in his inner purpose, and the tiller,

and the hand that is upon it, i. e., his will. Heis a man without a will. This is altogether dif-

ferent when there is direction in the ship. Thenthe man at the helm directs the course. Heknows where he wants to go. And when wind

and waves take him out of his course, he resists

them. Then the hand takes firm hold on the

tiller, turns it, and with it the helm, directly

against wind and wave, and the ship that obeys

the helm- cuts the waves, not as tide and wmdshould will, but as the helmsman wills it. Such

is the man of character, the man of will-percep-

tion and will-power, who does not drift, but

steers. But there is still a third. On the bridge

of the ship, far away from the helm, stands the

captain. He knows the intended course, and as

on the bridge he stands much higher, he can see

far better whether the ship should turn to the

right or to the left. Then all the man at the helm

has to do is to listen for orders from the captain

on the bridge and to obey them.

Apphed to the soul, God is the captain on the

bridge, and the man at the helm is ourselves.

When with the tiller of he boat of our soul in

hand we but will what God wills, and turn the

helm to the right or to the left as God orders,

then there is no danger to be feared, and pres-

ently through wind and waves, the boat safely

reaches port. If this goes on for life, we becomeaccustomed to it; in the end we learn to knowahead whether the captain on the bridge shall

order right or left; we come to know God's will

more and more as of ourselves ; and so the knowl-

edge of God brings us nearer to the haven of sal-

vation, i. e., to eternal life.

From the illustration we come back to thematter itself. When God so works in us that atlength we ourselves will what God wills, theprocess is not outward but inward. It is not thatwe are here on earth below, and that far awayfrom us, and seated high above us in the heavens,from immeasurable distances God imparts amechanical impulse to us. Far from it. Godenters our inmost selves.

To a certain extent this is even the case withthe captain on the bridge who calls to the mateat the helm. For what is it to call? He whocalls makes air-waves to vibrate and these vibra-tions extend themselves to the spot where theman stands at the helm. Thus the vibrating air-

waves enter the ear of the mate, touch his

auditory-nerve, which communicates the motionto his soul. Hence there is a direct, continuousmovement, which from the captain penetrates into

the soul of the mate. Thus the illustration coversthe ground.But with the case in hand it is yet stronger.

When God worketh in us he is the omnipresentOne, who is both high in heaven and close at

hand. Even "close at hand" is still too weak astatement, for God is in every one of us. Thereis no part in our being where God is not omni-present. This is the case with all men. But whenGod deals with one of his children, this inwardpresence is much closer and more personal, for

God dwells in such an one by his Holy Spirit,

If we believe that the Holy Spirit is himself

God, we understand that God himself tabernacles

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in his child, that he has his throne in theinmost recess of the child's soul, and thus hasfellowship with him, not from afar, but in thesanctuary of his own person. There God workethupon us by day and by night, even when we arenot conscious of it. He is our Sculptor, who*carves in us the image of himself, and makes usmore and more to resemble his own Being. Thushe transforms us, and also the willing in us. It

is God who worketh in us, not only our emotions,but also our willing, by transforming "the self

that wills."

When we understand it this way, it is plain

that there is a constant holy entering in of God'swill into our will, thanks to this purifying andrefining and transposing of our inmost selves.

This work goes on in us mostly unobserved andunperceived, so tenderly and gently does God'shand direct the task. But not always just like

this. Sometimes the sculptor must forcibly strike

off a piece from the marble, so that it crashesand sphnters as it falls. These are our times of

violent inward struggles, when everything withinus quakes with the reverberations of moral shocks.

But whether it be gentle or whether it be violent,

it is ever the process of sculpturing. And thesculptor works not after a model that standsbefore him, but is himself the model. He formsus after his own image.This Divine labor in the realm of our will

brings us ever into closer resemblance to theimage of God. And to be more and more trans-

formed after the image of God only means that

God's will ever more deeply enters into om- will,

which in turn means an ever better understand-

169

ing of God, a better knowledge of him, and anever clearer insight into his will and purpose.

Thus we see that there is still another way of

learning to know God than learning about himfrom books or sermons.

* Further on we will try to show that this knowl-edge of God from books and sermons is also

indispensable, but we pass it by for the present.

It is eminently necessary that eyes that are nowclosed against seeing God's work in the innerlife of the soul shall open to see this glorious

work. Without an understanding of the reality

of the life of the soul, and of God's work therein,

there is neither power nor outpouring of thesame, nor fruit of that power in the life. In thatcase the Church is dead. It only echoes soundswhen it thinks that it sings Psalms of praise

unto God. Then the world pushes the Churchto a side, and not the Church the world. All

attention therefore must be centered on the will,

on the willingness, on the self that wills, andupon God who in the self works the willing.

The poet in his songs prayed for feeling,

imagination and heroic courage. For feeling, will-

power and heroic courage let every child of Godsupplicate the Father.

"WHAT I WOULD, THAT DO I NOT."

The distance that separates the noblest andmightiest man on earth from God is immeasur-ably great. We fully understand that it can

make us exclaim almost despairingly: "Whyshould we seek after knowledge of God? Behold,

170

God is great, and we know him not. The mostwe can do is to kneel in worship before theunknown God."This is what the doubters meant, who at

Athens had reared an altar to the "UnknownGod." They did not mean that besides the many-gods, whose altars had been reared, there wasstill another God, whose name they did not knowand to whom they brought their offerings as toan unknown god. No, that altar to the unknownGod stood for a system and a viewpoint. Bythat altar they meant to say, ''Our fellow-citizens in Athens, who kneel before Minerva orJupiter are mistaken when they accept thestories about the gods. All that is said to beknown of God is founded upon self-deception.Of the Infinite himself nothing can be known.There is an Infinite One, or at least there is

something Infinite. Who or what it is, is animpenetrable mystery. Worship this Infinite asthe great Unknown. Do it with the confession ofignorance. Candidly confess that all knowledgeof God is withheld. And then mysticism will

work wholesome effects. But let us not confessto have what we have not. Let us not pretendthat we are introduced and initiated into theknowledge of God. For this is self-deception.It will only deceive others and is the key topriest-craft.

This was the thought of that small group ofmen in Athens. And among the ablest andnoblest of our race there are many who thinkso now. From choice they call themselves"Agnostics," Their aim and purpose is to haveit imderstood that they are by no means godless,

and least of all that they are irreligious; thatindeed they are most religious and that thereforewith deep humility they are frank to confess, thatthe God whom we worship is One who by his

Supreme Majesty withholds his knowledge frommen.However devout this may seem, their viewpoint

is essentially untenable. It is diametricallyopposed to Christian doctrine. What Pauldeclared to the Athenians: "That God, whom yeignorantly worship, him declare we unto you,"remains unchangeably the confession which wehold in the face of these misguided people.Surely, had not God revealed himself, no one of

us would have known him. But God has madea revelation of himself. This is the glad tidingwhich every true Christian makes known in theworld. Wherefore in the face of this seeminglypious not-knowing of the Agnostics, we boldlymaintain the word of Christ: This is eternallife, that they might know thee, the Only true

God.There is also excess on the other side. There

are ministers and laymen who talk so familiarly

about God, without reserve or constraint, andwho speak to him in prayer so irreverently as to

arouse aversion. These are men and women whohave no actual fear of God in their heart, whothink that they know well-nigh everything about

the Most Highest, and who do not even faintly

perceive that all our speaking about the Eternal,

: nd all our speakina; to him. is nothing morethan stammering. Love truly casts out fear.

But fear must be there first, and love must

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struggle against it. In this way only the victoryis gained of the child-like Abba Father.When God is spoken of in a way which shows

that there has been no fear of God, nor love to

cast it out; that there has been no struggle andconsequently no triumph, there is no child-like

Abba, dear Father, but a pedantic show and pre-tense of knowledge, which exhales no fragrance of

piety, but rather destroys the germ of vital

godliness. To avert this it is needful that ourknowledge of God is properly related to ourwhole inner self, to our creation after God'simage, to our childship in the family of God,and especially to our will and purpose. Purelyintellectual knowledge of God is a frozen criLst

of ice from under which the stream has run dry.Another distinction must be observed. There

are two kinds of willingness. One just remainswhat it is, the other is translated into doing. Inour days the inclination is strong to attribute aninner excellence to the willingness that expressesitself in doing. There is something bold andalmost brutal in the will-life of our times. Allone needs is to will. He who wills must dare.Then let come what will. In every case the will

must express a power that can do everything.''Where there is a will there is a way." Andunder the lead of such men as Ibsen and others,this will-effort has been driven so onesidedly,that in their effort irresistibly to carry out theirown will many pride themselves on their indif-ference to opposition.

Compared with these present-day heroes of thewill, a weakling like St. Paul cuts a very poorfigure. He candidly declares that he has known

173

moments in his life when he had to confess:"What I would, that do I not; but what I hate,

that I do" (Rom. 7:15). This is an honest con-fession, which age upon age has been shamefullyabused, that under the cloak of piety one mightcontinue in sin and keep the conscience quiet.

An abuse which shall be judged of God. Butapart from this abuse the language of St. Paulis the honest description of actual life, whichdeclares that the ideal always stands above us,

and that we always have to mourn our inability

to reach it, and to make 't actual in life.

There is willingness of heart, and an effort torealize it in life. This willingness of heart is for

the most part free. He who restrains evil ten-dencies and conforms his will to the will of God,fosters an holy aim. This involves conflict, butonly in connection with the remnant of the oldnature that is in us. As long as we stand alooffrom life, and take council with our heart, achild of God will inwardly triumph, and finally

he will come to will only what God wills, andfind happiness in this harmony of his will withthe will of God.Now, however, follows a still greater difficulty.

And that is: to carry into effect what we will at

heart, against the world, the flesh and the Devil.In connection with this it continually happensthat with the best will of the heart we meet withstubborn resistance; that we find no power in

ourselves to cope with it; and that in the end weleave undone what we honestly meant to do andstill want to do. This tempts us all too often

to underestimate this inner willingness of heart.

What is the good, we ask, whether we foster the

174

best of intentions and cherish holiest purposes,

when at the time of trial we are bound to fail?

And this mood must be resisted. This is debase-

ment of self. It not only unfits one for the

battle of life, but severs the vital nerve whichbinds one to his Divme ideal. Better faint ten

times and suffer the punishment of God's judg-ment in the conscience than to have part withthe world in everyday sin without an accusingconscience.

This inner willingness of heart to will whatGod wills has supreme worth, even though as yetstrength fails to carry it into effect. For it is thedevelopment of the life of God's child. It is

coming into closer fellowship with God. It is

the increase in the knowledge of God. It is adiscipline which keeps the conscience tender, andthe ideal bright, and makes progress in the way.Of course the progress is greater when willing-

ness of heart is carried out in the deed, until it

becomes a part of life. For then the moral powerof faith operates, the nature of the hero awakensand the power of the Almighty, which overcomesthe world, becomes manifest in us. But it doesnot begin with this. It begins with the transpos-

ing of the willingness in the heart. This is fol-

lowed by the sad and painful experience that the

willingness is there, but that the doing still

tarries. In that stadium the strong and pene-trating working of the conscience performswonders, for it brings us at length into the final

stadium, v.here from bare willingness what Godwills we are brought to the doing of his goodpleasure.

34

"NOT AS I WILL."

In the "Our Father," and in Gethsemane, it

is each time the same prayer: "Thy will bedone." But though the emphasis and the wordsare alike both times, the meaning is different.

In the "Our Father" "Thy will be done" means:"Thy will, O God, be done by me." In Geth-semane it means: "Let thy will, O God, comeupon me. Let come to me what may, not as I

will, but as thou wilt" (Matt. 26:39). The latter

prayer brings a large part of the knowledge ofGod which is eternal life. We increase in this

knowledge when our will conforms itself to thewill of God, so that we think, speak and act in

perfect harmony with his ordinances. Thus wegrow in the knowledge of God, because his will

then enters into us, whereby our will is trans-

formed, and conformity to the Image of Godbecomes ever more apparent.But there is another increase in the knowledge

of God which comes to us when we are willing tosuffer what God allows to come upon us, whenwe adapt ourselves to what in his council hehas appointed in our behalf, and when we accept

the things that come to us therein not merelywithout murmuring and complaint, but with

heroic faith. This increase in the knowledge of

God progresses differently and along lines of a

far more painful discipline. The stress consists

in this: That, accepting the will of God in our

lot, we bear it passively. When "Thy will bedone" means: "Let me fulfill thy will as the

176

angels fulfil it in heaven/' it stimulates our energy,St r?^ up the will, and when we overcome sin theheart overflows with the feeling of supreme joy.

But when "Thy will be done" means : "Let thingsoccur not as I desire, but in keeping with thyplan," there is need of submission and resignationthat we might endure what God appoints andallows. In the lower school of suffering at least

there is no development of energy at such a time,but inward enervation; no stimuli to spur thewill, but cords that tightly bind it; no smile ofcourageous heroism, but the tear of poignantsorrow. It leads to deeper knowledge of God,but as a rule in a far more trying way, throughdark mazes of many unknown and unsolvableriddles. Problems that try one's mettle to theuttermost, when it comes not merely to momen-tary suffering of pain, but to the endurance of abitter lot, which begins early in life and endsonly with the grave.

This frequently happens in life. Here is awoman who was a happy wife. Husband andchild were her daily delight. She was not irre-

ligious. Heartfelt gladness found frequent expres-

sion in thanksgivings and praise. "The love of

the Heavenly Father was great. He made herhappy and glad." But circumstances changed.Great illness broke in upon her peace. Husbandand child were snatched away by death. Andnow that everything is gone she can not be com-forted. The grieved and deeply-wounded soul

rises up in rebellion against God. It has all beenself-deception. She feels that in every way she

has been misled. God can not be love. How177

could a loving God cruelly cast her down fromthe heights of her great happiness into the depthsof bereavement and woe? In perplexity of grief

her language becomes that of despair and of

defiant unbelief. "Speak no more of God to me.Cruelty can not be love. There is no God."And so the break of happiness in life becomesthe break of faith on God. She thought that she

knew the Lord. Now that he shows himself in

a different way from what she had imagined she

abandons all she ever believed. With husbandand child she also lost her God. And nothingis left in the soul but the burned-out hearth

where the last spark has been extinguished.

This shows how hard in the school of suffering

the lesson is by which we increase m the knowl-edge of God. When for the first time in life the

full weight of the cross is laid upon the shoulders,

the first effect is the opposite from that for whichit was imposed. It makes us numb and indif-

ferent, and all knowledge of God is lost. Thehymn of love was so beautiful. It sang itself as

it were in the soul. A God who is nothing butlove, who blesses and enriches our life and makesit glad, who would not treasure such knowledgeof God. It is pleasing to us when love is

shown, and nothing but love. How blessed andrich is the heart with a God who makes only

streams of love, happiness and peace to flow out

towards us.

But the day of adversity dawns, the day of

trouble and disappointment, the day of sickness

and bitter grief. "Where now is the love of myGod? Where the outflow of love from the Father-

heart? Not only has he not saved me my dyinghusband and child, and left me praying withoutcoming to my aid, but he has brought these

sorrows upon me. He sent illness into my home,and 0, it is almost too cruel for words, he hastorn my husband from my heart and has killed

my darling child." In the end this will lead toanother and a better knowledge of God, whichwill make his doings plain. But the first feel-

ing of the heart is, that with God, as we imag-ine and dream him to be, we can not getalong. We lose the God we had, and it takesmany bitter conflicts of soul before, purified inour knowled<2;e of the true God, we embrace himin place of the other.

Thus the first lesson is, that in everyday life

we learn to submit to an higher appointmentand bow before an Omnipotence against whichwe can do nothing. This seems dreadful. Butit is the discovery in actual life of God as God.When we have but just come into the way thatleads to the cross, we take ourselves as the mainobject of interest. It is our happiness, our honor,our future, and God is added in. We look on our-selves as the center of things, and God comes in

to make us happy. The father is for the sake of

the child. And the Almightiness which is con-

fessed is but to serve our interests.

This knowledge of God is faulty through andthrough. It turns around the order of things. In

all seriousness it makes self God and God our

servant. This false knowledge of God is entirely

overthrown by the cross. Cast down in grief andsorrow we suddenly perceive that this great God

179

does not concern himself with, lis; that he doesnot apportion or regulate the course of things

according to our desire; that there are different

motives in his plan, which have nothing to dowith our wishes; that if necessary his Mightcrushes us on the spot; and that in the workingof the plan and of the might we are nothingelse, and nothing more, than particles of dustthat cleave to the wheel, and withered leaves

that are driven before the wind. Hence we mustsubmit. We must bend. We are utterly impotentbefore it. And from the heavens in which webeheld thus far only the play of light and clouds,

darkness descends upon the soul, thunder-clapsreverberate in the heart, and flashing lightnings

fill us with dismay. This is the discovery of the

reality of God, of his overwhelming Majesty, of

an Almightiness that absorbs everything we call

our own. And for the first time we realize whatit is to have to do with the living God. Forsuch is God. Now we know him.And now begins the new effort of the soul to

learn to understand this true God whom we havecome to know in this way. Then we begin to

wonder, to query and to ponder why AlmightyGod doeth thus and so. Then the troubled heart

seeks an explanation. It looks for it in its ownguilt and sin, in the after-effects of the past, in

the purpose for which the cross was laid uponus, and in the fruit which it shall bear in the

unravelling of eternity. For long times it is

always the effort to find the explanation of God'sdoings in ourselves. Until the soul makes further

progress and abandons the theory of Job's friends,

180

and like Job out of the whirlwind receives theanswer from God himself, and now learns to

understand that the government of God covers all

suns and stars, all hours and centuries, and causes

every creature to revolve itself about him, the

Eternal, as the one and only center, for the sakeof his majesty and honor; that therefore his

council and plan are as high as heaven, and far

exceed our compreheL ion; and that not theverification of his Council, but the entering into

the life of it, whether through joy or whetherthrough sorrow, is the honor and self-exaltation

of the soul.

This breaks the passiveness which made usnumb, and awakens again the impulse to will-

ingly drink the cup; to drink it with heroic cour-

age and not allow it to be forced upon us. Towill to drink it even as Jesus willed to die onGolgotha; with a broken heart to co-operate in

the work of God, and in this passive co-operationwith God, who slays us, to find eternal life. It

is even as the sentinel who lets himself be shot

down at his post, and in dying receives the lookof approval from his general, which exalts him,

because he knows, and now understands, that hewho exposed him to death, yet loved him.

35

"I LOVE."

At times there is something so overpowering,

extravagant and unreasonable in the early love of

a youth for the maiden of his choice, and of the181

maiden for the elect of her heart, that we feel

that there is a mysterious, inexplicable power atplay. This is not always so with those who arebetrothed. Eccentric tension of the mystery of

love is rather the exception. Neither should this

doting, intoxicating love be associated withsensual inclinations or voluptuous desire. 'Theecstacy of love" in question here only shows itself

with those who are in love, and while it pervadesthe soul and body both, even in our sinful state,

it* can well be free from sensual propensities.

When this rapture is equally warm and true onboth sides, the w^orld hears nothing of it. Nearfamilies and friends alone are in the secret.

Frequently, however, it reveals itself in a tragic

manner, as when the young maiden discovers

that her ardent love finds no equally ardent

response in the heart of her lover. Scarcely a

day passes that the papers do not report the case

of some girl, in the home-town or abroad, whowas betrothed and passionately in love, and whoupon discovering that her lover was untrue to

her, found life itself too heavy a load to carry,

and preferring death to life sought it in suicide.

''Ecstacy of love" is a high-strung degree of

affection which takes the person whom it masters

out of his normal self and transports him into anexcited state of mind, which though it is notinsanity, shows signs that are similar to it. There-fore we began by saying that it is outside of

reason. One who is in this state of ecstacy cannot be advised nor reasoned with. As Burger in

his Leonora tells the tale so graphically, for those

182

who so love, there is only one of two thingsthinkable; either they must be loved with equalwarmth in return, or they can find no rest untilthey find it in death.This should not be taken too ideally. It does

not follow by any means that such a youngmaiden stands exceptionally high as a woman.Rather on the contrary not infrequently suchecstacy takes hold of girls who are very ordinary0''".erwise, sometimes even very egotistical. Incourse of time also in many cases this ecstacyentirely passes away and nothing remains save avery ordinary, and sometimes a low-lived person.In the ordinary sense it is not passion that over-power^ such a girl. And this ecstacy may be bestexplained as an inclination bordering on insanityto identify her life with that of another. It is anoteworthy phenomenon. An overpowering desire

in the heart, which when doomed to disappoint-ment makes one quickly and resolutely seek death,is an utterance in human life wliich deservesattention.

The Song of Songs describes this ecstacy of

love, and aims to outline an image of the loveof the soul for God. The whole Scripturestretches the canvas on which at length the Songof Solomon embroiders the image in vivid colors.

Human marriage is the embodiment of the tie

that binds God and his people together, God andthe individual soul. Jehovah calls himself Israel's

husband, and declares that he has betrothed him-self to Israel in righteousness. Infidelity againstthe Iloly one is called a whoring in idolatry.

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Thus it is ever the God-given love between hus-band and wife, which in vivid imagery is thestanding expression of the love that binds thesoul to God. In the New Testament this is

applied to Christ. He, the son of God's goodpleasure, is called the Bridegroom of his Church,and his church is the Bride, who invokes him.When Jesus analyzes the great commandment

of love, he turns to the Eternal Being, and out-

lines this love in terms which describe theecstacy as in life. To love God with all theheart, with all the soul, with all the mind andwith all the strength, what else is this than tobe entirely lost in, and consumed by, a higherdrawing, which makes us ignore every other con-sideration, in order to know and to find and to

enjoy the object of our love, in which to lose

ourselves altogether? The deep significance whichthe love between husband and wife shouldalways have, and which it frequently still has,

can only be explained from the fact that in this

love God has imaged forth the highest love

between himself and the soul.

This lends an holy and exalted character to

this high-strung love. This accounts for the fact

that when this love develops harmoniously andnobly, it creates the purest happiness on earth;

that in its sensual degeneration it works ruin andcorruption; and that when suddenly and inhar-

moniously it takes hold of a receptive mind, it

wrests the intoxicated soul away from itself andleaves it a prey to semi-frenzy. For back of it

all operates the higher love, which God hasformed in the tie between himself and his

184

creature, and it is only the sinful character of

our earthly existence that unites what does notbelong together, makes soul and body part com-pany, and breaks the equilibrium of the inclina-

tions, so that what is best and holiest turns itself

into sensuality or frenzy. Like the snow-flake,

which comes down from the clouds pure white

but is soiled through contact with the impurityof this world.

Nevertheless, if we would understand what ourlove for God should be, we must come back toconjugal love. In the authorized version Psalm116:1 reads: ''I love the Lord." In the orig-

inal it only states: I love. We would say: I

am in love. It is an utterance of the soul whenit perceives that the power of love has irresist-

ibly taken hold upon it; when it feels itself

inwardly moved as never before, and driven byan unknown inward pressure; perceives and knowsthat this is love, and in ecstacy exclaims: "I

love, I love, I love." And as this wonderful inner

motion of the heart transports the maiden with

dehght, when this love directs itself to the youngman of her choice, so here the same irresistible

pressure operates, only in an entirely holy man-ner, lifting the soul above every other thoughtand directing it to God. With the young maidenit was but the faint impression of the highest;

here it is the highest itself. Et-ernal love, whichat last moves the pure tie between God and thesoul to operate fully and harmoniously, andmakes the soul to love with all the intensity

which human powers can command.This is not the mysticism of imagination. It is

185

not knowing God by the acts of the will. Neitheris it knowing God through the analytic studiesof confessional standards. It is the close approachto God with the warm, tender feeling of thethrobbing heart that craves to be cherished; it is

to have longed and languished for what can quietthe burning desires of the heart; to have tried

everything that can be tried; to have suffered

disappointment with it all, and now at last tofind the true, perfect and holy object of the loveof the heart; to receive God himself in the soul;and in this love to be supremely happy.The difference is perceived at once between

this love and what is commonly passed as lovingGod. Who does not love God? Every oneindeed, who is not out and out an atheist. Whyshould he not be loved? In him everything is

pure and holy and exalted. There is nothing in

him why he should not be loved, and every onefeels that he is worthy of the love of all. Themasses in general love God. They have nothing.against him. In God they find their ideal of

what is beautiful, right and good. Therefore they•can not do otherwise. Even as they love virtue,

and right, so tliey also love God. But in this

Platonic love glows no tiniest spark of personal

relationship and attachment. It is called love for

God, but God has no place in the soul or in the

mind. The inclination and drawing of the heart

do not go out after him. There is nothing in

this love of a burning thirst after God, such as

makes the heart pant after the water brooks.

By the side of this cool, measured, pseudo-love

of the world, which is heartless, the Scripture

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places the utterance of tenderest piety that seeksafter God, and finds him, and is aglow withwarmest love for him; can not do without him;of itself thinks of him; is continually busy withhim; and directs evers^ utterance of the soul tohim and to him alone. And in this love there

is a knowledge of God, which no analytical study,no work of the imagination, and no power of thewill can bring us. It is to love, and in this loveitself to enjo}^ eternal life. And thus to knowGod with an intimacy such al you would deemwould not be seemly in a creature. Until in thehereafter every wall of separation shall fall away,and God in us and we in him shall be the per-

fection of highest Love.

36

^'THOU HAST NOT LAID ME UPONTHINE HEART."

To the superficial mind nothing seems so easyas to love. Of course, one loves himself. It is

not at all difficult to love God. The only troublesometimes is to love one's neighbor as oneself.Even this is not because there is no will and nopower to love, but because at times this neighbormakes it almost impossible.This is altogether a mistaken view. To love

God is far more difficult than to love one's neigh-bor. It can safely be said that where there areten who love their neighbor, there is at most onlyone who is consumed with love for God.

Jesus, therefore, has put love for God in the

187

foreground as the first and great commandment.There is less complaint in the Bible about lackof brotherly love than about forgetfulness of God.The Apostle shows that this was no Jewish exag-geration, when in his epistle to the Romans hereiterates the bitter complaint of the Psalmistthat: "There is none that seeketh after God, no,not one." This does not exclude the fact thatlove for God can be poured out in the soul. It

is frequently observed that this Divinely-out-poured love which at first was small and weak,afterwards became stronger and more tender.But take a man by himself, as he grows up bynature, not only among good-for-nothings andcriminals, but equally much among cultivated andhonorable people, there is no love in that manfor God. He does not seek God. Indeed, thereis no one who really loves God in the way in

which God requires it.

For a long time this seemed to be different,

but it was appearance only. Even at the begin-

ning of the last century it was still the rule amongthe rank and file of our people to favor religion

And to abhor every form of atheism. Withoutwilling to be called pious, no one desired to beknown as irreligious, and on solemn occasions the

name of the Lord was always remembered. Are

people worse now than formerly? By no means.

They have emancipated themselves more gen-

erally. But on the whole people now are whatthey were before. Only with tliis difference, that

now unbelief is preached more boldly from the

pulpit and university chairs, in the press and in

open meetings. Has this practice provoked a

188

single protest? Not at all. On the contrary, in

the course of an ordinary hfetime the faith hasbeen abandoned in ever widening circles, andthere is almost no more shame now in beingcredited with atheism. Even this is nothing new.The selfsame condition prevailed in Israel in thedays of its spiritual apostacy. This is convinc-ingly shown when God himself through Isaiahutters this reproach against his people: "Thouhast lied, for thou hast not laid Me upon thineheart" (Is. 57:11, Dutch version).

It is very necessary therefore to examine still

more closely what it is to love the Lord. Neces-sary also for believers, since even among themthere glitters much that seems like the gold of

love, but which is no gold. The first step is to

realize that "to love God" is not the easiest, butthe hardest thing to which faith calls us. Ordi-narily love is taken as willingness to consider

others and to do all we can to make them happy.This is seen on every side where philanthropyawakens. Love there directs itself first, most gen-

erously and easily, to the unfortunate, and it is

a matter of congratulation that this generously

interpreted philanthropy is carried, in these days,

on such large scales. This teaches us to bring

ofiferings, it invites devotion, it lessens much suf-

fering.

But with this aspect of love, we make noadvances with God. He is blessed forever more.

He is not in need of anything. In notliing is he

in need of us. We can furnish him no supply.

Pity, which gives rise to philanthropic love, can

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never inspire us when it concerns the ever BlessedOne. Here another kind of love is required. Alove which springs from the perception that webelong with God by reason of our origin and man-ner of existence; that we are his creatures; andthat therefore we can have no reason for being,no object for existenec. and no future desi.iny

except in him. The hollow idea that we have areason for existence in ourselves is robbery com-mitted against God. It is the wheel whichdetached from the wagon wants to roll on byitself. And when a man has thus actually detachedhimself from God, and from the heights of his

imagined independence has turned himself to God,to love him as an outside something, and calls

that love, it is worse than caricature andmockery. It is the outrage of love, which doesnot make us holy, but accuses and condemns us

before God.To love God is to abandon everything that

separates us from God, and every moment of

our life to live wholly for God. To love God is

to reconsecrate to God what became separated

from God. It is a motion in the soul which is

born in us, when magnetizing power goes out

from God. and draws u;* to God. A prossiu'e and*an inclination in us, which leaves us no rest for

a moment; and every time pushes aside, or backeverything that separates or draws us away fromGod, and thus leaves us free to hold communionwith God.

This is first observed in prayer. Take heed,

says the Apostle (I Pet. 3:7) that your prayers

be not hindered. You feel this yourself when youwant to pray, and cannot, because of the things

that stand between you and God. Your thoughts,

inclinations and feelings must first be detachedfrom them all. They must be driven out fromthe mind. And then God comes back to you, andyou can pray again. And what happens in prayerone moment must happen in every particular of

your whole life; for only then will true love for

God begin to awaken in you.

Jesus had this in view when he said: ''Thou

shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart,

and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, andwith all thy strength." These four together con-

stitute the inner organization of our spirit. Thesefour get implicated every time in egotistical or

worldly interests. And therefore they operatewrongly. They separate us from the Holy One.And this is love, that we detach all four fromthese wrong connections and turn them, not in

part, but entirely, to God.This is not really an offering. An offering is

something of our own, which we could keep for

ourselves, but which we freely give up to another.

Nothing is said of this here, and never can be.

Our heart is from God, our soul is from God,our mind is from God, and all our powers are his

property. Hence we bring God nothing. We butreturn what belongs to him. And when we dothis, and do it in such a way that our heart andsoul and mind and strength, all four, direct them-selves to him, and serve him altogether, the sep-aration is ended and love celebrates her triumph,

191

Then it becomes the shamefacedness of the thief,

who returns what he had stolen and makes noboast of merit; but prays to be forgiven.

This is what the prophet calls "to lay God uponthe heart." Love is a tender, touching emotion,which needs symbols. This gave rise in oldentimes to the custom among lovers to wear eachother's picture on the heart. It meant that onehad given the other heart and hand, and that

now one wears this symbol on the heart as a

continual warning not to let the heart, thus

sealed, for a moment go out to another, but to

keep it faithfully for the one that is loved. Andto lay God upon the heart means that the choice

has been made, that the heart has been given to

God, and that now the symbol of God's name is

placed upon it, to seal the heart for God, andclosely to guard the heart for God and God alone.

The case remains always the same. It is not

to love God in order to bring him something,

but to lose self in God because we belong to him,and because b}^ this consecration of ourselves

to him alone, can the end of our oxistenco berealized. To do all this, not in the mechanicalform of a calculation, but through the losing of

self in the ecstacy of tenderest love, is the first

and great commandment; this is to know theLord, to feel oneself as a child with his Father,

and to be inwardly consumed by the love of Godwhich is poured out into our hearts. The ques-tion remains, how many there are, even amongthe pious in the land, who in this way have laid

God upon their heart?

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37

"WITH ALL."

The commandment that ^.e shall love our neigh-

bor as ourselves is so strongly emphasized in these

days, that among the rank and file of people the

first and great commandment is more and moreforgotten. That it is everyone's calling first of

all not only to serve the Lord, but to love him

—

who thinks of this?

This substitution of the second in the place of

the first commandment has captivated the popu-lar mind to such an extent, that even amongbelievers love for God has lost much warmth andtenderness. Appeals in the house of prayer for

charitable and philanthropic work get more eagerhearing than the far higher call of love for God.This changing and turning about of the orderhere is fatal. He who loves God will also lovehis brother. But it does not hold true in everycase that he who loves his brother also loves God.The first commandment guarantees the second,but not the second the first. To be warmlyaffectioned toward God, and cold toward abrother, is unthinkable. But many men andwomen are prominent in all sorts of charitable andphilanthropic works who are stone-cold towardGod, and who at times even deny his existence.

It is necessary,' therefore, that the counterpoisebe placed in the scale, and that throughout thechurch the great commandment to love God besolemnly impressed upon the heart. The voiceof this call should everywhere be loudly heardagain. And the preacher would have a rightunderstanding of his duty if week by week he

would bind this love for God upon the con-science of his hearers, with such warmth and elo-

quence, that the whole congregation would beimpressed with his tender devotion to God, andwould be inspired by his zeal to such a degreeas to be itself revived in its love for God, withthe board of ofl&cials in the lead. The press also

should have a part in this. By means of thesemeditations we seek to direct attention in everypossible way to the necessity of making, morethan has yet been done, communion with, andknowledge of, and love for God, our daily busi-

ness. Sound creeds, a blameless walk, and goodworks are undoubtedly indispensable. But themarrow of all religion is fellowship with theEternal. And in this fellowship it is only lovefor God in which the brightness of gold glitters.

And yet as soon as we press this love for God,we face a very great diflBculty. It presents itself

in the two words, which stand at the head of

this meditation, or rather in the last of the two,even in this painful word all. Would you loveGod? Then, says Jesus, you must love himwith all your soul, with all your heart, and withall your mind. And this, let us humbly confess,

is not achieved in this life by the holiest of saints.

Sin and the world have so estranged us from Godthat sometimes it takes an utmost effort, even afew times a day, apart from our regular prayers,

to lift up the heart to God in a conscious utter-

ance of love. Is it saying too much when weadd, that many prayers are said at home and in

church, during which the soul does not communewith God? And when at times we did succeedin having the soul go out in love to God, what

194

then was the degree of tenderness m the love,

and how long did this exaltation of soul con-

tinue? More yet, how often did it become m us

a thirsting after God? And suppose we have

come thus far, not every day, but most days

how far distant are we even then from loymg Uod

with all the heart, and all the soul, and all our

consciousness? For this all must also mclude all

the day, so that our love for God never escapes

us, even in sleep. ,

Naturally, a distinction must here be made.

Love for God can spring up m the heart, can

scintillate in the word, can restram sm and selt-

ishness, and inspire deeds of devotion and heroic

courage. But the inspiration of this love can

ver\^ well operate in us, while we may not be con-

scious of our love for God, nor of the reciprocal

working of God's love for us in our heart. J^rom

love for God a martyr can go into death, and mthe moment of dying be so abstracted by deadly

pain, or by the taunts of his executioners, that

for the moment tender communion of love with

God is impossible. It is equally true that busi-

ness or professional duties, intercourse with peo-

ple and the cares of daily life may so engage

our minds that with perchance a passing thought

of God, we are utterly unable to center our mind

on God. But though we keep all this out of

count, it is still the great commandment, to love

God with all the heart, with all the soul, and

with all the mind. And who of us has ever suc-

ceeded in doing more of this than a small part

of the whole? ^ • . . i r

But there is One who has not fainted betore

this first and great commandment, but no more

195

than one: even Christ. Jesus alone has fulfilled

the second commandment of love to fellowmen,and with respect to this, be it at a far distance,

many saints have pressed his footsteps. But in

the fulfilment of the first and great commandmentJesus stands incomparably alone. He alone hasloved God with all his heart, with all his soul,

with all his mind and with all his strength,

always, even unto the end, without one moment'sinterruption. This is his crown of glory. Thereinis the life of the world. Think him away andthe whole world, with its thousand millions of

people, stands before God without one amongthem who has kept the great, supreme and first

commandment. But he has come, and now there

is One from whose real human heart and real

human soul and real human consciousness pro-ceeds this pure, full, unalloyed love for God, for

the joy of which. Almighty God has created all

mankind. This is the shield which is lifted upupon us. This accounts for the fact that Godcan still tolerate this world and bear it.

With us also this will come. Many of ourbeloveds, who in the earth did not reacK it byfar, in the realms of everlasting light now bringthis perfect love-ofifering to God. And we shall

come to it when in death we shall fully die untosin and we shall be done with the world, andshall know God even as we are known. Thatis, if we fall asleep in Jesus, if in death thereshall be nothing left to separate us from him.And that which makes us cleave to Christ is

just this: That we love God, that the love of

God has been poured out in our hearts, that thelove of God has operated in us, that with us

the love of God has come first, and that with all

our imperfections and shortcomings it has beenour deepest desire and will to have God's love

be our supremest inspiration, and that it has pre-

pared us for what is highest and best. And this

is the mystery of being a Christian, that as wehide ourselves in the perfect love wherewithJesus has loved God, through the glow of his

love for God, we feel the spark of our love for

God burn in our own heart, and that, when it

goes out, Jesus kindles it again.

"WITH ALL THINE HEART."

Underneath, still deeper than the heart, lives

the soul. When God searches a person he tries

not merely the heart, but enters still more deeplyinto his being. The Scripture expresses this

plastically by saying that after God has tried the

heart he also trieth the reins (Jer. 11:20) in

order to examine us in our inmost parts. Inmoments of extreme tension it is felt, even amongus, that the heart is not yet all, but that we mustreach down to the marrow of our inmost self.

We see it in the case of Jonathan. When Davidhad sworn that he would alwa5"s be faithful to

him and to his house, Jonathan, deeply moved,replied: "Whatsoever thy soul desireth, I will

even do it for thee" (I Sam. 20:4).

In all seriousness the only element of worthin the heart is that whidi comes into it from thesoul, and passes through it to the soul. Whatgoes on outside of the soul may indeed be veryattractive. It is less captivating when only the

outward appearance interests us. It is morestrongly attractive when we admire a man's cour-age and energy, devotion and self-sacrifice. Butall this passes away. We do not assimilate it into

our life. As a rule, the emotions of the heart,

which do not touch the soul, do not rise higherthan the feelings, sometimes not higher even thanthe pseudo-life of sentimentality. The functionof the heart onh' derives all real, abiding worthfrom the relation which it sustains to the soul.

This does not imply bj^ any means that theheart is a superfluity, and that the soul alone is

important. On the contrary the heart has beengiven us of God as an absolutely indispensableorgan of the soul. That which stirs in the soul

can only come through the means of the heart tothat supreme perception and lofty utterancewhich we glorify as love. In the great command-ment, therefore, Jesus puts the heart in the fore-

ground. First: Thou shalt love the Lord thyGod with all thine heart, and only then: Thoushalt love the Lord thy God with all thy soul.

This could not be otherwise. Love does nothave its beginnings in the soul, but in God. It

comes to us from God. And only when this lovefrom God enters through the heart into the souldoes it awaken in the soul the life of reciprocal

love for God, which now presses from the soul

into the heart and makes us to love God. Butthis last stage is only reached through he heart.

In the heart only is the flame ignited, and therethe fire of love burns. As long as love is con-fined to the soul it partakes more of the natureof worship. The heart alone breathes forthtenderness and warmth. Only when we love God

198

with all the heart does this love begin to glow

in us with real human feeling.

Love of the heart is irresistible, mutual attrac-

tion. The Scripture speaks of it more than once

as: "a cleaving of the soul unto God." Whenthe magnet draws the steel so closely to itself

that there is even no more air between, the steel

cleaves unto the magnet. Hence when so tender

an affection springs up between people, that at

length everything that separated them falls away,

heart cleaves unto heart and soul cleaves unto

soul. In the same way there is no perfect love

for God until everything is removed that madeseparation between him and us. And it also

applies to this love that our heart, and through

the heart, our soul cleaves unto God.This is a strong and forcible expression, such

as the Scripture uses again and again. So strong

that we ask: Shall it ever be true with us? Butthis is no question for the child of God. As a

rule, indeed, a mountain of hindrances rises

between the soul and God. In spite of this, how-ever, every child of God has known brief

moments, in retirement and solitude, in which the

love of God drew him so strongly and irresist-

ibly, and God's blessed fellowship in Christ over-

whelmed him so blessedly, that really everything

fell away, and for the moment the cleaving of

the heart unto God was the only true expression

of what the soul enjoyed and felt towards God.What is called power of attraction in nature,

in the spiritual is called love. Love is not some-thing artificial, something studied, but is of itself.

WTien any one loves you, you feel it. You feel

whether the love which interests you, and draws

you, is strong or weak. And when a great lovedirects itself to you, goes out after you, andbegins to affect you, you likewise feel the irre-

sistibleness of its drawing.Jesus himself calls this outgoing of love ''draw-

ing." The Father draws his elect. Of himselfthe Savior said I will draw all men unto me.That is to say, I will play upon your heart withsuch power of grace and love that you will comewith me, surrender yourself to me, and serve me.There is ovenvhelming power therefore in this

love, but so far from violently inflicting injury,

it affects one most blessedly. As the sun drawsthe flower-bud upward, and by his cherishingwarmth makes it to unfold, so this love of Goddraws you up to himself, fills you with mostblessed sensations that make the heart to leapwith holiest joy. You drink in this love, or if

you like, it is richest enjoyment for the soul.

And in the wealth of this tested love of God,pure and tender love for God awakens of itself

in your heart.

There is also love for the impersonal. We canspeak vaguely of love of nature, when it interests

us by its beauty and loveliness, or awes us by its

sublimity. We can love science, righteousness,everything that is noble and of good report. Butall this is visionary love—love in general, whichfinds no rest because the soul that personsallylives and loves, can only find satisfaction in per-sonal I'ove. For this reason there is somethingtender already in the' love for a song-bird ordomestic animal. Here love concentrates itself

upon a definite object and there is a reciprocal

utterance. The attractiveness of a dog can be

200

very great, because there is personal response.

This is not the case with nature, nor with science

or jurisprudence; but it is with a dog that will

risk his life for you.All this, however, is but the prelude of higher

love, and only with man it begins to speak in

richer language, and to reveal its higher nature.

And here, too, is ascent with differences. Thelove of mother and child, of father and son, of

brother and sister, of friend and friend. Until

at last we come to holy wedlock. This may at

times be degraded by sin, but in its ideal inter-

pretation it is highest love on earth, and there-

fore it is stamped by God himself as the symbolof the love that binds him to his elect.

But even in marriage love does not reach its

full fruition. According to its nature it is con-scious of an impulse which rises higher still. Andwhen finally love begins to reach out after theHighest Being, and j^ou feel that the spark of lovefor God has been kindled in your heart by Godhimself, j^ou perceive that love in you is nowwhere it ought to be, that it can rise no higher,

but also that it has no such desire, and thattherefore it is thrice blessed.

The conflict which then ensues is caused b\^ ourinequality with God. He is everything, we noth-ing. He the High and Exalted One, we the vaincreatures of his hand. We owing him everj---

thing. He needing nothing. And therefore hecan take nothing at our hand. Among ourselveslove is mutual as between equals. No great per-

sonal love can develop between a strong man anda small child. The little child can not rise to thelevel of the fully developed man. Nor can he

201

descend to the child otherwise than by disin-

terested kindness.

And this is just what God has done for us. Hehas done it in Christ. In Christ he has cometo us as man, to make the inequalitj^ equal, tojoin himself to our life and in everything to

become like unto the brethren, only sin

excepted. This is the great myster>', by virtue

of which with those who have joined themselvesto Jesus, who believe in him and have becomeone with him in soul, tiTie love for God candevelop itself independently of the hindrance of

inequality.

And if now j-ou say that Jesus gave 3'ou every-thing, and that therefore you can put no crown onhis head which already he does not have, thenbring to mind that there is one thing left whichGod alone can claim from his people, and that

this one thing is the love of the heart. But thenit must be love with all the heart, until the heartshall yearn after God, as God's heart has yearnedafter us.

^'WITH ALL THY SOUL."

If you begin to feel troubled and even guilty

that with the passing years you have made solittle advance in love for God, then examine withmore care than before the rule of Christ regard-ing it. You have known the great command-ment from childhood. You have learned it byheart, and your conscience has admitted uncon-ditionally that Christ is right. In your love for

God nothing can be wanting. With all the heartand soul and mind and strength it must be

unbounded love. Everytliing must go for Godeven as you have to look for everything to God.But even this broad admission did not satisfy

Jesus. He did not say: Thou shalt love theLord thy God in everyi;hing. He has carefully

distinguished between the heart, the soul, themind and the strength. And did you do well toignore this? There was a purpose in this dis-

tinction. Our Lord has deemed this distinction

to be necessary for the whole church. It wa^ his

will that ministers of the Word should bind this

love for God severally with the heart, the soul,

the mind and the strength upon the conscienceof believers. It was his will that every child of

God should continually examine himself, whetherhe practiced his love for God m this same four-

fold way.True godliness would have rooted more deeply

and more firmly in the life of the church, if bothpreaching and self-examination had been appliedmore seriousl}' to the cultivation of this full,

warm love for God, and if it had derived morevital strength from the keeping of this first andgreat commandment. No holier power can ani-mate us than love, and in all love the love for

God wears the crown. Love, therefore, is thebond of perfection, provided it is not volatilizedinto a vague conception of ideal love withoutrule or object. Everything noble and exalted inlove that can be idealized and celebrated in song,is only real, when it is a love that first loves Godand for his sake one's neighbor.

Attention is at once arrested by the fact thatin commending love for God, Jesus gives theheart the first mention, and not the soul. We

203

would have done otherwise. The soul as thecenter of our inner life would have been men-tioned first, and from this we would have derivedlove with the heart and mind and all our strength.

Jesus, on the other hand, begins with the heartand then points to the soul, the mind and thestrength

.

This difference between heart and soul is madeclear by the word of the Lord in Jeremiah 4:10and 18. At one time Israel is told that theterrible outpouring of God's wrath shall reachunto the heart; and at another time that it shall

reach unto the soul, but with a sharply-outlineddistinction. When the troubles that come uponIsrael are described in their first stages of alarm,it is said: ''This is thy wickedness, it is sobitter that it reacheth unto thine heart" (4:18).

When suffering continues and the case at lengthbecomes fatal, it is said: "That the swordreacheth unto the soul" (4:10). Thus the heartis the seat of the emotions and sensations, andthe soul is the seat of life itself.

Applied to love, it is the heart that receives

the impressions of love and makes this ardentfeeling to flow forth. But love is clarified in thesoul, and the impulse of the passion of lovesprings from the soul. Without the heart lovecan not be enjoyed, neither can it be exercised.

But neither can love, which is thus enjoyed orexercised, touch your self if there were not some-thing deeper back and underneath the heart, eventhe source of life itself, and if there were thereno operation of the tie that binds heart and soulin one.Without ears there is no liearing, and there is

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no speaking without voice. But it is the soulwhich employs the ear as an instrument to hear,

and which speaks in the voice, if the saying shall

be true. In the same way there is no drinkingin of love, and no exhibition of love, without theheart; but it is always the soul that employs theheart as instrument by which to enter, with its

deepest and most hidden life, upon the wealth of

love.

To be able to say, therefore, that we love Godwith the heart, will not suffice. With the heart

one can feel sweetly moved by enticing love,

and become aware of reciprocal feeling of lovewithin, and be quite innocent of actual true love,

simply because the soul has no share in it.

This is strikingly evident in art. In grandopera we listen to a touching recital of humansuffering. At the time we are deeply moved andcarried along. The sensations of anxious fore-

bodings, described in song, were sj^mpathetically

felt in the heart. We lived with the characters

of the plot and shared their suffering. But pres-

ently the play is over. For a moment the impres-sion stays by. But an hour later everythingis forgotten and we continue our ordinary course

as though nothing had happened. The case is

not that the heart had not been moved, for evenshallow feelings touch it. But the soul had nopart in it, and therefore it did not touch us.

The same thing continually happens in life, Amother can not detect a tear in the eye of herchild, but is at once almost moved to tears her-

self, and at the moment will do everything she canto comfort her darling and help him to forget his

woes. But in many instances this does not go

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beyond the confines of the heart. When thechild that wept, laughs again, everything is over.

Because the love for her child does not spring

from the depths of her soul, she does not knowhow to love the soul of her child, hence she doesnot save but spoil him.So there is a love for God with the heart,

which is offended when the Divine honor is

attacked, and which takes pleasure in tenderfeelings toward the Lord, but the object of it is

self and not God. There is love there, but notthe love that goes down deep enough to reachunto the soul. Our self is in our soul. There it

stands before the face of our God. And there-

fore on the floor of the soul the question mustbe decided whether God exists for our sake, orwhether we exist, solel}' and alone, for the sake of

God.When we can say: As for me, the latter is

the case, it is glorious. But now the second ques-tion arises: Do we consent to have it so fromsubmission, from the sense of our own unworthi-ness, or from love? Would we exist for no otherpurpose than for the sake of God, because we cando no other? Or because we would not wish it

any other way, since God is our tenderest loveand our whole existence is lost in love for him.If this be so, this love will be enjoyed throughthe heart, and it will express itself through theheart. The costly instrument of the heart wasgiven us for this purpose. But he who employsthis heart and plays on it in happy love, is alwaysself in the center of the soul, in the deep under-ground of existence, where our person lives in

the holy presence of the Triune God.

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Have you become aware of any such love for

God in your inmost self? If so, do you under-

stand what it means to love God in your inmost

self with all your soul? Not whether there are

times when this is so, but whether it has become

the fixed habit of your life. Not whether you

surrender yourself to the love of God with a

part of your soul, with a part of yourself, to the

end that you might be saved, and be forever

happy, but whether you give yourself to it, to

the end that you might glorify God forever. It

is not the division of the soul between yourself

and God which is required, in order that you maycommit continual robbery in the soul, and with-

hold from God part of your desires, part of your

future, and part of your self-consciousness. Theclaim is terribly great. It is all comprehensive:

Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy

soul. It means that there shall be no single

utterance of life in you except such as springs

from your love for God.To do this, it may be said, we should be angels

and not men. And this is true, provided we say:

Not sinful men. But for this you have your

Savior who, as man, has fulfilled this perfect love

for God in your behalf. And if by a true faith

you fly to him for refuge, in spite of your lack

of love, you will have peace in your soul.

40

"WITH ALL THY MIND."

It is singular that the first and great command-ment includes the claim : to love God with all the

mind. When Jesus holds the high ideal before

us, to love God with the heart and with thesoul, we understand it at once; for these are dis-

posed to love. But how can we love with themind? The mind has been given us to think, toponder and to understand. How can it be anorgan of love, an instrument on which love canplay its holy melodies? As a rule it does notimpress us, because in reading this command-ment no attention is paid to it.

No account is made of it. The task of investi-

gating the several parts of this first and greatcommandment is not taken seriously. In readingit over hastily we take it to mean that we shoulduse the mind in the service of God, and leavethe heart and the soul the task to love. But this

is not so. It does not say that the mind mustserve God; that we must direct our thought to

God; that with the mind we must come to aclear confession of God, nor how we shoulddirect the working of the mind to God. It

declares clearly and plainly that with the mindwe must love God. Jesus includes all religion in

the one great idea of love, which love must pene-trate and pervade every part of our human per-

sonality. From the soul it must have dominionnot oiiiy in the heart, but also in the mind, andmust bring it to pass that all our vital forces are

led by this one supreme motive of love for God.The mind here does not mean simply logical

thought, clear judgment and learned concepts,

but the whole glorious endowment of our con-sciousness, including representation, imaginationand intellectual activity.

'Towers" are also a": work in nature. Farstronger powers than in us. But though nature

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is alive, it is unconscious. And though we are

aware of some consciousness in the more highly

domesticated animals, it is exceedingly weak with

the best of them. The glory of conscious life,

which is only perfect in God, is found in manalone, because with respect to this also he has

been created after the Divine image. Conscious-

ness may not reach by far its highest develop-

ment in some people. With the insane it is sadly

disturbed. But the most unfortunate idiot clearly

shows the unspeakable greatness of the gift of

consciousness, of self-consciousness, and of a con-

scious life which even the ordinary man has

received from God. Hence we have no right to

estimate it as inferior to the heart. And all

religion that would confine the service of Godsolely to the heart, and to good works, to the

exclusion of this glorious human consciousness,

cripples itself, robs God, and is bound to degen-erate into pseudo-religion.

This shows at once that it is the Christian dutyof human science to direct itself to God, and that

not only a part of it, such as Theolog>', shouldtake the knowledge of God for its object, andleave no path untrod in which it can enrich itself,

but that science as a whole, and everywhere,should exhibit the glory of God. All science,

however much disciplined and learned, that leaves

God out of count, that awakens doubt abouthis existence, or dares to deny him, is no science

but sin. It sins against the great commandmentthat with all the mind we should first of all love

God. And since it is at variance with every idea

of love to pass its object by with indifference, or

to ignore it altogether, it follows that the scientist,

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who in his science does not feel himself drawnto God, and with his scientific knowledge, doesnot before all else seek God and his glory, breaksthe great commandment. And this is the curse

that rests so heavily on the science of our timesthat it does not feel in its veins the pulse-beatof love for God, and that it behaves itself as

though the great commandment, to love Gk)dwith all the mind, had never been given.

The same applies to our doctrinal standards.

The priests of science are only few in number,but every man is called to confess the faith. It

is not difficult to understand what this means.Every man has a conviction, a system of prin-

cipal ideas from which he starts out, a world of

thoughts, however small, by which he lives, for

which he contends, and from which he acts. Bysaying, therefore, that every man is called tomake confession, we mean that no man shouldhold godless convictions of life, but that in everylife-view God should be the center; that this

world-view should cleave unto God, go out fromand return to him again; and that everythingelse in this life-view must adapt itself to the love,

the ardent love, for God which it claims.

Not every man can make this clear for him-self. In every other particular the world derives

its great ideas and representations from knowl-edge that has been handed down by past gen-erations. With its confession of the ages, there-

fore, the Church of Christ simply comes in as

an aid to the ordinary man. In the Church, withrespect to the knowledge of God, every manreceives the results of age-long experiences of

faith. And no national conditions can be healthy

210

and normal, save as the rank and file of the peo-

ple take the confessional standards of the Churchas the starting point of their views and convic-

tions of life. Hence it is ruinous to love for Godwith "all the mind," when Christian confessions

are left out from a man's convictions of life, andwhen it is falsely preached that everything

depends upon the mysticism of the love of the

heart and upon the act of the will. He whodrives this propaganda impoverishes the love for

God, by excluding from it all the mind, and does

not tread in the footsteps of Jesus, but diamet-

rically and directly opposes his supreme com-mand.With this, however, love for God with all the

mind has not yet reached its limit. Apart

from science and Christian confessions there is

the ordinary daily consciousness, the activity of

the mind in daily avocations, in social inter-

course, in plans we make, in lines of action which

we lay out for ourselves, in intentions which wefoster, in reading, in thoughts about persons andaffairs, in representations, in imaginations, in

appreciation of art and literature, in review of

the past and in outlook upon the future. All this

together forms the many-sided activity of our

consciousness; it is the daily sphere of activity

of all the mind; the school and workshop of our

thought, study and contemplation; and all this

can go on either without God, or continuously

and at every point it can be inspired and ruled

by the thought of God, and by the love of his

name.With every one of us, therefore, Jesus claims

all this for God. It is his will that love for God

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shall not only lead, direct and rule us in all this,

but also that from an inner impulse all this shall

form and clothe itself in the way which we knowand understand is well-pleasing unto God. Aboveall else it is his will that we do this not from asense of duty, because we must, though of our-selves we would like to do otherwise; and notfor the sake of escape from the wrath to comeor of earning heaven thereby; but from love,

purel}^ from love for God, because for the sake of

God we can no longer allow ourselves to usethis costly gift of our consciousness in ways thatwill grieve God.And though, as we think of all this, we may

realize that in actual life we are still far distantfrom this high ideal, in reading and re-reading thegreat commandment the true child of God will

be arrested in his course by this claim also, thathe must love God with all the mind. He will

seek to control his conscious life far differently

than before. And if he succeeds in making his

love for God more evident in all his thoughtsand in all his plans, the deeper experience of thelove of God will be his daily gain, and in his

inmost self secret fellowship with the Eternal will

become ever more sweetly known.

41

"WITH ALL THY STRENGTH."

Nothing is more grievous to a Christian soulthan the superficial fencing and boasting of love,

which is current in our loveless society life. Thisplay with what is highest in heaven and on earthis especially tr3'ing, when in unbelieving and semi-

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believing circles, especially by entire and partly

emancipated women, the high ideal of love is

used as a weapon with which to oppose the faith-

ful confession of the Gospel.

Love is then said to be "the whole of religion."

There is no need of anything more. The OldTestament is by far too unmerciful. Paul wastoo severe in his anathemas, and only saved his

honor by the hymn of love in I Cor. 13. OnlySt. John, the apostle of love, is a man of whomto be proud. That he should have asked for fire

to come down from heaven to destroy the enemiesof Jesus, is probably not true. His advice not to

show hospitality to one who denies the doctrine

of Christ (II John 10) occurs indeed in his

epistle, but these epistles are unauthentic. More-over as devotees at the altars of love, they makeJesus their boast. He never allowed himself to

be governed by anything save gentle, tender love.

At times, indeed, Jesus could be hard, evensharp, in his retorts to the Pharisees, but these

Pharisees are the so-called orthodox Christians of

today, whom they themselves do not sparebecause this is not necessary. These slaves of

the letter are outside of the law, outside there-

fore also of the law of love.

This false mania of love is inexorably con-demned by Jesus in what he said about the first

and great commandment. Truly, love is of thehighest importance. It is the one and only thingthat is required, provided that it is conditionedby this rule: That all your love goes out fromyour love for God. That is to say, that in thelove-life love for God stands in the foreground,and that it shall so dominate all of your love,

that you love him with all 3-our heart, with all

your soul and with all your strength. And asthough this does not state the case sufficiently

sharply and definitely, and as though to makethe last misunderstanding and misconceptionimpossible, Jesus adds a fourth claim and bindsit upon the conscience that this love for Godanswers to the high ideal only when it is also

love for God with all the strength.

Hence Jesus does not do what many professedchristians do. He does not say: "God is love, butyou should also count with his holiness." No,the Savior puts nothing above, and nothing along-side of love. Love to him is all-sufficient. Buthe objects, that in principle, this love counts onlywith the neighbor. He demands and wills that in

our love, the love for God shall be the all-

dominating starting point. He will not let 3'ou

go until you understand that no boundary of anysort may ever be put to this love for God, andthat therefore it must likewise be a love for himwith all your strength.

Love for God with all the heart, all the soul

and all the mind may be lost in sentiment or in

vague idealism, but when it is required that welove God also with all our strength, the claim is

laid upon the actual life, the entire personalexistence and upon the whole outlay of personaland vital powers.

Strength is what goes out from us as utter-

ance of the talents wherewith we are endowed,of the powers and capacities that are at our dis-

posal, of the means at our command, of the influ-

ence we exert, of the time that is apportionedunto us, and of the circumstances which call out

the exhibition of our strength. Jesus demandsthat all the powers that are entrusted to us, on

the condition of responsibility to him who gave

them, shall be exercised in such a way that in

their working the love for God shall show itself

as the dominant element.

Do not take this in a sickly-spiritual sense.

The idea lies at hand that love for God really

only shows itself in our work and influence whenwe apply our strength exclusively to religious

and spiritual things. For then it is imagined

that a clergyman loves God better than a la\vyer

or a physician; that a missionary is more devoted

to God than an editor or a publisher; that aninstitution for the saving of unfortunates is nobler

than one for scientific investigation. In brief,

that love for God is more fully expressed byservice in the realm of particular grace, than bylife in the broader domain of common grace.

This is all wrong. God's greatness and omnip-otence do not limit themselves to the morerestricted interests of the salvation of souls, butpervade all human life. And with every one of

us, according to our talents and callings, love for

God must show itself with equal zeal and strength

in every department of life. An artist or sculptor

can and ought with equal consciousness and pur-

pose glorify God from love, as a missionary or a

philanthrophist. The humblest caUing is notexcluded here. A farmer, who is an elder or

warden in a church, must serve God from love

with all his strength in stable and granary as well

as in his duties as church official. A motherin the bosom of her family has as sacred a call-

ing to love God with all her strength as a nurse

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or as a woman missionary in the foreign field.

False dualism which relegates the mother or theservant to common life and pronounces the nursesacred, does not feed the love for God, butpoisons it.

Three forms of sin in this connection lowerhuman life: Neglect, misuse and abuse of ourpowers. In each of these sins love for God is

denied. No star has been placed in the firma-ment but has been called to shine for God'sglory. God has imparted to no human soul agrain of gold, but the brightness of it must appearand glisten in his honor. But what the stars donot do is done by indolent man. Many peopleof conspicuous talent, instead of improving it for

God do nothing with it at all. Of course it wouldrequire effort, sacrifice and self-denial to improveeach latent talent to the full. But when they arenot willing to make tliis effort, sacrifice and self-

denial for the sake of God, where then is their

love for God? Even among Christians God'shonor would be far more glorious, if instead of

being buried under mountains of self-sufficiency

and indolence, all the particles of hidden goldcould glisten in public sight.

The misuse of talents is different, but it is

equally sinful and loveless before God. Here noefforts are spared; sacrifices are freely made; butthe object of it all is to secure position for onc-self; to make good along material lines; to pleaseothers; and to become rich, not in God, but in

public esteem. Very hard work is done, but fromselfish motives, and not for God's dear sake, andfor love of God. It is not working while it is

day, as a child from love for his Father, in the

sure confidence that he will supply all our needs,

but slaving for the sake of providing the meansoneself. It is for money and not for God.And along this line the third sin io easily com-

mitted, even the yet worse abitse of one's talents

in the face of God and of his sacred claims. O,who can count the men who might have shone as

stars of the first magnitude in honor of the Lord,but who have abused their noble gifts in break-ing down what is holy, in attacking the Word of

God, in opposing religion, and at length in thedaring attempt to eradicate faith in God fromthe lives of others. Who does not know them,the singers and the artists, who have abused their

glorious talents in behalf of wantonness and arti-

ficial tastes, and in drawing souls away from God.How much wit has been abused in mocking atholy things and in making them appear ridiculous.

What keenness of insight has degenerated intocunning and tricky slyness for the sake of cherish-ing lies and dishonesty. What maidenly beautyand loveliness has been sinned away in the pas-sion to please and to cherish impurity of purpose.All this abuse has been banefuUy expressive ofenmity against God and not of love for God.By the side of this neglect, misuse and abuse

of our gifts and talents, Jesus places nothing savethe love for God. He does not bind this claim onthe conscience of the worlds for the world doesnot know true love, because it knows not God,and all true love proceeds from love for God.But he puts the claim in all its fulness and bound-lessness upon you, who confess his holy name.He will not let you go until the scales fall fromyour eyes and you begin to see that you sin

217

your life awaj- as long as you do not know that

craving after the fullness of love for the Eternalwhich can not rest until it loves God also withall its strength.

42

"HE THAT LOVETH NOT KNOWETHNOT GOD."

Knowledge of God is eternal life. Not that theone is something which is added to the other,

for this knowledge is itself eternal life. Thisknowledge of God, therefore, can not be limited

to what the understanding grasps or does notgrasp, or to what has been committed to memor}-.Knowledge of God truly reflects an ever clearer

image in the mirror of our consciousness, but it

can never be outward, abstract or a barren jug-glery with words. This knowledge comes to us in

virtue of our second birth, even as a child knowshis father and mother. In bold words, one mightsay this knowledge is in the blood. It is a Divineatavism. This knowledge is taken hold of in thewill, when the will takes hold of the will of God.This knowledge continually increases in the secret

walk with God, and it matures in the life of

prayer. In the gloomy depths of sorrow and onthe sunny heights of joy and prosperity this

knowledge brings us ever nearer to the riches thatabide. It is a knowledge which comes of itself

continually from the stream of life to the sur-

face; which uses our person as its organ; andwhich at times has moments when it seems that"seeing face to face" as through the veil of thesanctuary is already granted here.

This rich knowledge of God, ever more mature,

218

ever more full and overflowing with Divine sweet-

ness, must of course be apprehended in the clear

consciousness, and be poured over as it were mto

the doctrinal standards of the Church of Christ, and

into our personal confession. Unless this is done,

mystical corruption quickly enters in as well as

mania for hallucinations and weakening senti-

mentality. It fills one with sorrow, when in

Church and out of it barren school-learning is

seen in the place of Hfe, and the knowledge of

God is treated as though it were a corpse rather

than an inspiring, elastic hfe pervading the soul.

This is not in accord with, but diametrically

opposed to, Scripture. Hear the proclamation of

the apostle of the Lord: ''He that loveth not

knoweth not God, for God is love" (I John 4:8).

If this puts it strongly, the fact remains: that

by being most like God in what we do we enter into

the pure knowledge of God. With this in view

consider the forgiveness of sin, and you will under-

stand the mystery of this knowledge of God. The

chief question of your life and of your future

which concerns you personally is now and always

will be whether God forgives you your sin. This

is not the way in which it is presented m the

preaching of the day. For this makes the great

question of life to consist in ridding ourselves of

sin and in w^orking out our own sanctification.

And this is self-delusion. It is and always will

be even as St. Paul and Luther and Calvin bound

it upon the soul. The great question of life is,

how shall I be just before God? Forgiveness of

sin is the way to dying unto sin; not otherwise.

How we, who are in the midst of sin until wedie, can be called unto sonship with God, to dwell

forever in the Father-house above, this and this

alone is the mighty problem of life which imme-diately touches our relation to God and ourknowledge of the Eternal. Thus the riddle of

the world and that of our soul always comesdown again to this one inquiry: Is there gracefor me also, and forgiveness and perfect recon-ciliation?

It is exceedingly significant that in the OurFather the brief petition for forgiveness links

itself as with an iron hand to the declaration,

that we ourselves forgive. "Give us this day ourdaily bread," is immediately followed by thepraj-er for the daily bread of Divine forgivenessfor the life of the soul. And this is joined to thehonest and fully-meant declaration: As we for-

give those that trespass against us. In otherwords : You must love, with that best love, whichmakes you forgive, from the heart, those thathave wronged you. And he alone who loves like

this knows God. He alone knows God in this

his highest love, that though our sins be as

scarlet he will make them white as snow, yea,though they have risen mountain-high, he casts

them into the depths of the sea.

Actually, therefore, in the Our Father itself is

expressed this significant thought which it seemedso bold to utter, that we, by forgiving others,learn to understand that, and how, God forgives us;

that is to say, that by loving others we learn toknow God in his love for us. And that he thatso loveth that he forgives his enemy entirely andaltogether from the heart increases in the knowl-edge of God, learns to know God, and learns tounderstand how God loves him.

220

Does this begin with you, so that you lovefirst, and that afterwards God loves you? Farfrom it. Love never begins with you. Back of

the first stirrings of love that ever moved thesoul, it was God who put it there. Neither canyou ever forgive from yourself. You can forgive

in a way which makes your forgiveness itself tobe new sin to j^ou, but never in the way whichcan release the soul. Frequently we hear of aman of the world who forgives. Indeed, as such,

you have done this yourself from a sense of

superiority, in order to show that your enemywas of too little consequence than that he couldofifend you; or to make a show of your ownvirtue in not carrying a grudge, and so to rid

yourself of him and to be at peace with yourself.

Such forgiveness, however, has nothing in com-mon with real forgiveness, except appearance andname. What the Our Father means on the otherhand is forgiveness from love, which is so warm,honest and real as to make you feel: if God will

so forgive me I am saved. For then it is Godhimself who has quickened this love in my heart,who from his own love has made this love toforgive flow into my soul, and who in my for-

giving of my enemy makes me to know his

eternal, compassionate and unfathomable love for

me, who was once myself his enemy, but nowhis child.

At J;he sound of the Apostolic word: "He thatloveth not knoweth not God," the conscience asa rule falls asleep with self-satisfaction. Whatman is there who loves nothing and no one. Evenrobbers have been known to love an animal, achild or wife at great sacrifice of self. But what

221

is that? When it says: He that loveth not, it

means: He who does not Hve by love; he whois not governed by love; he who does not rejoice

in love, and has no love that can endure the test

of fire. And love is put to this fiery test, not withrespect to those who are necessary to us, andwho are agreeable to us in life, but only withrespect to the man who stands in our way, whomwe can call our enemy. The genuineness of yourlove therefore is only evident in forgiveness, evenin the forgiveness of him who has offended you,who has opposed you, and who has embitteredyour very life. To forgive such an one, not fromduty but from love, this alone is proof that thereis this love in you which makes you learn toknow God.But you say, "This is impossible. I can forgive

for God's sake, and also because I myself am sin-

ful. I can forgive from the sense of Christianduty, but not otherwise." And yet Jesus demandsit: Love your enemies, bless them that curseyou. Consider it well. Thou shalt love God withall thy soul, with all thy heart, with all thymind, and with all thy strength. And the secondlike unto it is: Thou shalt love thy neighboras thyself; and he is thy enemy. Not only mustI love my neighbor also, but this second com-mandment is like unto the first. When it is asked

:

"How can this be?" we reply: only when youlove in your neighbor what there is of God in

him. Nothing more. Not his sin, neither his

%wong committed against you. These you shouldrather hate. But even as you love nature becauseit shows forth the power and glory of the Lord,and an animal because it is wonderfully organ-

222

ized and endowed with instinct by its Maker, so

you should much more love your neighbor as

man, because God has created him after his imageand has endowed him with wonderful talents andgifts.

If all this has been corrupted and spoiled andhas become hopelessly satanic, so that there is

nothing more of God in him, then love ceases

and turns into hatred, even as it should. Satanalso was a most wonderful creature, but he hassinned awa}' his all, and therefore every child of

God hates this monster. But however deeplyfallen he may be, man in this life is never like

this. The murderer on the cross rejoices beforethe throne. Jesus has renewed unto life thosewho have wandered farthest away from the fold.

And this is the glory of the Gospel that in everyman, thus also in your enemy, there is a pointof connection where grace may enter in. Bythis alone is the gospel our salvation. And hewho for God's sake heartily loves this remain-ing spark even in those who have wanderedfarthest r.way, loves with a love which learns toknow God in this his eternal love wherewith,while we are yet sinners, he also loves us.

43

"CLEARLY SEEN AND UNDERSTOOD BYTHE THINGS THAT ARE MADE."

From of old the Church has pointed to natureand to the Bible as the sources of our knowledgeof God; that is: the knowledge of God whichcomes to us from without ; which can be expressedin abstract ideas; and therefore has a place in

223

Christian creeds. This does not include experi-

mental knowledge of God, which comes to ii3

personally from spiritual experience, from com-munion of saints and secret fellowship with God.The knowledge of God which comes to us from

without is majestic. Confining ourselves to whatnature brings, the Reformed confession truly andbeautifully declares, that all creation is as a living

book, the letters of which are the creatures. Butthe book of nature brings us no further than therecognition of the attributes of God, his power,wisdom, goodness, and so much more. It hasnothing to say about life in the spiritual king-

dom, of direction and rule by the Holy Ghost,of making our will one with the will of God, of

having Divine love poured out into our hearts,

of drawing closer to him, who is love, or of

mystic contemplation.The Confession is a banner with clear inscrip-

tions, which we lift up before the world in order

to declare the glory and majesty of him whomwe worship; but it is not the intimate communi-cation of that knowledge of God which comesfrom the knowledge of self and from one's ownexperience.

In these meditations we have put this moreintimate knowledge of God in the foreground.

Devotional literature is not acceptable to theworld, because it speaks from and in behalf of

communion of saints and from spiritual experi-

ence to those who have enjoyed the same, or at

least know the yearning after it. But we haverepeatedly sounded the note of warning against

sentimental emotionalism in this sanctuary of

mysticism. So we come to the knowledge of God224

from nature, not that we might interpret it in amaterial sense, but rather that we might weaveit into our spiritual life.

In this respect also the erring soul frequently

impoverishes itself. It has been learned by heart,

and in general it is agreed, that Divine attri-

butes exhibit themselves in the works of nature.

From these we can infer that God is great in

power, in wisdom and in goodness. But now thatthis is known, we are through with the book of

nature. The sum of the knowledge of God, whichit brought, is made out. So the book is putaside, and there is no personal, lasting impressionof the majesty of God which nature was intendedto convey. No one looks for it. No account is

made of it. And there is almost a feeling ofimpatience, when in behalf of their superficial

religion the men of the world appeal by preferenceto nature. It saddens one to hear it said withcertain exultation, that the Church has servedits day, that the Bible has lost its significance,

and that there is a far richer religious joy "inthe temple of uncut wood."But here the faithful are at fault. However

much they deserve praise for their love of theChurch of Christ, and however precious thetreasures are, that have come to them from theScripture, they should not have been indifferent

to the fact, that we are equally called to rememberthat the invisible things of God, from the creationof the world, are clearly seen, being understoodby the things that are made, i. e. from nature,even his eternal power and Godhead (Rom. 1:20).There are three progressive stages in the know-

ledge of God. It begins with nature, it goes on

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to man as created after God's Image, and finally

is made perfect in Christ, in so much as He is

the express Image of God's Person. And thesethree do not stand loosely side by side, butform, if we may say so, a climbing pyramid.Nature forms the broad ground surface, it ascendsin the rich unfolding of human life, and reachesits liighest point in the Incarnation of the EternalWord.

Christ is not clearly seen, nor understoodapart from the knowledge of man, and man is

not clearly seen and understood apart from asympathetic touch upon unconscious .nature.

Hence the faithful should always live under thedeep impression of the majesty of God in nature.

Believers must live the life of mankind, i. e.

history, over again in themselves. Onlj^ thuscan they obtain the clear, full, living impressionof Christ, who reveals God to them in the riches

of his grace.

In this way Almighty God began, and con-tinues until now, the revelation of himself. First

in unconscious nature. When this was ended, as

a richer revelation of himself. He created manafter his own image and likeness. And whenman had corrupted his way, and in part hadworked out sin to its baneful end, as the richest

revelation of himself, God sent his Son.These three links of the holy chain perfectly

fit into one another. First there is the materialworld. In this world of matter man is createdfrom dust. And in our flesh and blood comesthe revelation of the Son of God, as man.The starting point here is, that God is invisible.

Let us understand this well. In himself the

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Eternal Being is not invisible, and we are de-

finitely told that once we shall see God face to

face. We shall know him, even as we are known.Intellectual knowledge, and even spiritual know-ledge is not the highest. The highest is vision;

clear, immediate sight. Seeing without inter-

medium; without mirror; seeing essential Beingitself. How this will be possible, is the mysteryof the life to come, although however latent,

the organ for this is even now present in the soul.

It is not given us to use it in the present. Thisis the dispensation of limitations, of the finite,

and of the things that are bound to form, color

and dimensions. And since God is not limited,

and has no form, dimension nor end, He is, in

this dispensation, the Invisible to us. There is noclear vision of God in this life. The question was,how in this life, God could reveal himself to usin his Majesty, even in such a way as w^ould cry-

stalize itself as a clear and fixed impression in us.

And God has realized this aim, 1st by revelationin nature of his Omnipotence and Divinity in

dimensions, which give us the impression of theinfinite, even through we know they are finite;

this is what we call the sublime; 2nd by the im-print of his life in the personal existence of man,creating him after His image; and 3rd by therestoration in full of this ruined and broken image,and by showing it to us, in Christ.

Hence God himself is in and behind nature.Hence nature is not a finished work of art, thatexists by itself outside of and apart from God.But God himself gives us to see and to hear hia

Majesty in the starry heavens by night, in thecolors of light by day, in the wonders of the

vegetable and animal-world, in the splendor of

the sea, in the roar of the hurricane, sometimeseven in the rolling of his thunder. In all this,

is, and lives, the God Whom we worship. In thethrobbings of the life of nature throbs his ownDivine life. Whatever moves in creation, flows

through it, and addresses itself to us from it,

is the inner motion of God's own life. All natureis nothing else than a living, throbbing veil

back of which God hides himself, and in whosefolds and undulations he reveals Himself to us,

clothed with Majesty. In the profound sayingof the Apostle: The Invisible God is not onlyunderstood in nature, but is also clearly seen.

This clear sight is the all-important matter.Though this screen, this veil, this investiture of

nature, God must be seen in his Omnipotenceand Divinity. We are not to look upon natureas upon a dead palace which is beautiful by rea-

son of its vast variety of lines and forms, butwe must feel and know, that standing before thefirmament, the cloudy heavens and the variedscenes of earth, we stand before God. Thatit is He who presents himself to us in it all,

enters into us through it all, addresses us by it

all, and who throughout the length and thebreadth of it all gives us to behold the workingsof the fingers of his Majesty. It is God whomakes the lark sing for us. It is God who cleaves

the sea, so that its waters foam. It is God whocalls forth the sun from his tent, and at even-tide directs his return ti.ereto. It is God whoevery evening lights the twinkling fires in thestars. It is God whose voice we hear in thethunder. And only he who in all this, feels the

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very life of God, and clearly sees in it all, theDivinity of Omnipotence, understands the gloryof the Invisible.

''AND THE SECOND IS LIKEUNTO IT."

God is invisible. He hides himself behind theveil of nature. But the folds of it move in

undulations and in vibrations, frona which wepreceive that God behind it, is close by. Ineverything that lives in nature, rustles, throbs,and stirs itself, we feel the pulsebeat of God'sown life. The Scripture has nothing to say of a

dead nature, but in all sorts of ways it makesus watch that we might hear ''the voice of God"and his "footsteps" in nature. When the earthtrembles, it is because He is "wroth" and makes*'the foundations of the mountains to shake."In the darkened firmament "God bows the heav-en and comes down." In the whirlwind "Godrode upon a cherub and flew." When "the deepabysses of water" foam, it is God who ''rebukes"them and drives them forth with "the blast

of his nostrels." The flashes of lightning arearrows, which He shoots forth into the firmament.When it grows dark the stars appear, becauseGod calls them, and behold not one faileth. Hedrenches the mountains from his heights. Hesends forth the fountains, so that they walkamong the hills. He makes grass to grow for

beasts, and for man bread to come up from theground. It is He who cleaves the sea, so thatits v/aves foam. And he whose ear is spiritually

229

trained, observes how God as his good shepherdgoes before him in the waj', hears the sound of

God's rod and staff on the ground, and is com-forted thereby.

All this is not for the sake of giving us a poetic,

vivid view of nature. Heathen poets have donethis. In nature also everything is for the sakeof religion, to reveal to us in it the glorious

presence of God, to bring us the fostering sensethat in nature everywhere the living and almightyGod is with us on every side, and to fill us withthe sublime impression of his Power, Divinityand Majesty.But this is not all. This self-same living God,

who in nature always envelops you and imposeshis presence upon you, reveals himself altogether

differently and far more richly in you as man,whom He has appointed as lord over nature.

The revelation of his life in man is so wonder-fully divine, that after having said: thou shalt

love God with all thy heart, with all thy soul,

with all thy mind and with all thy strength. Hetransposes this great commandment into analtogether different one: thou shalt love thyneighbor as thyself, and adds to this secondcommandment, that it is like unto the first; thatto love God in his majesty and to love God in

one's neighbor is one and the selfsame command-ment. To love God in God himself and to loveGod in man, or in one's neighbor, dififers in formand in fulfillment, but as commandment it is one.

Vagrant wisdom forces the representation that

from dead matter gradually the plant evolvedof itself, presently from the plant of itself theanimal, and finally from the animal, man. This

230

wisdom has been christened with the name ofinvolution and Darwm is called the prophet of thisnew evangel.This whole system is nothing more than self-

miatuation of unbelieving thought. But thereIS this truth m it, that the whole creation seemsto have been built up as a temple in which manshould serve as priest. Everything in it pointsto man. It calls for man. And when at lengthman appears in this temple of nature, everythingthat went before, appears to have served merelyas preparation for his coming. Man has lustlvbeen called a world in miniature. The creationon^y finds its end in man. Almighty God whohides himself in nature as behind a veil, makespersonal revelation of himself in man, not onlvm his power and majesty, but, what is far greateras bpirit. In man there is self-perception, clearconsciousness thinking after God the thoughtsot God. reye.ation of will, thirst after holiness,the spark of genius, appreciation of the beautifulpremonition of eternal existence, the resumptionof being in one personal existence, the imprintedmcreated knowledge of the Eternal Being, andall this is m him, solely and alone because Godcreated him after his iamge

fK^f^u ''I'' ^u°T "" niaster-builder by the palacethat he has built, a poet from his poetic works.a cogent thinker from his ^v^itings But the

^fffCi'^'^f.^^him that remains is altogether

different, after you have seen in his picture thefeatures of hs face, the flaming of his eve, andthe expression of his person . . ^^

Such is the case here. The Divine Master-builder and Artist first showed his works in nature

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He comes a second time and shows his image in

man, the portrait of himself. Not in one individual.This is impossible. But in man, as in the courseof centuries, he was bqrn, has lived and has diedby the millions. Among these millions there wasthe hyssop and the cedar. In these occasionalinstances of mighty personalities, who like cedarshave stood high above the ordinary rank andfile of men, the revelation of the Being of Godcentered itself ever more clearly. And whenyou take all the virtues, excellencies and rare

capacities together, which have characterized thebest and noblest of the sons of men, the grandand overwhelming sum-total brings a revelationof God, which far exceeds God's self-revelation in

nature.

This is still the case now. What would it nothave been, had not sin marred and ruined thefeatures of the Divine Image in man? Nowthere is distvu'bance. The mirror in which theimage is reflected is ruined by a thousand cracks;

it is weather-beaten and blurred. Parts of lines

and features are still discernable, but no morethe image in the loveliness of its unity, nor in

the clearness of its tints. And when even so,

this image still interests and attracts, and everand anon fills "you with warm sympathy, whatmust it have been to Adam, when in Eve hebeheld it in its original perfection, and how deepmust have been the fall in sin, which at once andirrevocably marred and ruined it.

Experience of human baseness at times is verydisheartening, and makes it easier to becomemisanthropic than philanthropic. But from thecourse of centuries history retains what was best

232

in human nature, and bj' its magnilicent revela-tion of noble human lives reconciles us againunto man. There is the picture gallery of history',

of the heroes in common life and of the heroesof faith, as the Apostle declares: (Heb. 12) "weare compassed about with so great a cloud ofwitnesses," wherefore we should lay aside everyweight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us."

This is revelation of God even yet in fallen man.And if love awakens in you real drawing lovefor man as man, it is in virtue of the glory that is

seen in man, the glory of God in human talent,

in human genius and in human heroism, pouringout its raj^s in human love towards you.There is something mysterious in your own self,

which is attracted by something equally myster-ious in another, whereby you overlook his failings,

forgive his sins, disregard social differences, andwith the myterious power of love envelop him in

the hidden parts of his being. And though this

love can be spoiled and become itself a sin, it

is in love for one who loves you, that the warmglow of Divine sympathy overpowers your heart,and the mystery of love in the Being of Godreveals itself to you.At first it is a matter of choice. In it beginnings

love is limited, narrow-hearted and repellant toothers; a gleam of light, which casts correspond-ingly the darker indifference for others as a deepshadow round about itself. This continues as longas love is still held in the meshes of selfishness.

It is love from God, but it is not as yet love forthe sake of God. Love for a few whom we deemworthy of our love, but it is not yet love for theneighbor, i. e. for man as man, a creature of God

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created after the Image of God. But the Spirit

purifies this love. Love for man must be hkethe love for God. There must be no di£ference

between these two, or else the love for man will

detract from the love for God in the heart.

Thus it becomes more and more a process of

distinction. Love of whatever of God there is

in man. Likewise hate of whatever of the EvilOne there is in man, with the serious purpose of

love to oppose it, until it is gone from his heart.

This is the way to discover whatever of God,hidden and latent through it be, still glows in

other men's hearts, to encourage this spark andnot to tolerate its extinction. Until at lengththis neighborly love reaches down to the latest

trace, which in eveiy man on this side of thegrave, even in those who have most deeply fallen,

still reminds us of his creation after the Imageof God, and of the possibility of its restoration.

Even as the lover of choice porcelains gathers withgreat care the shards of the broken dish becausehe appreciates their worth in the possible caseof their being glued together again. But even soyour love for your neighbor has become nothingelse than love for whatever of God there still

remains in him. The second commandment is

like unto the first.

45 '

"THE IMAGE OF THEINVISIBLE GOD."

God is a Spirit. God is Invisible. But withincreasing clearness He reveals himself. Thereare glimmerings through and back of the veil

284

of nature. In man, who is created after his Image,he becomes more transparent. He is faliy seen in

Christ, who is the express Image of his Person,the Image of the Invisible God (Col. 1:15).

Image and not picture. What has been sculpturedconveys more reality, than what has been pic-

ured jn lines and tints. It gives the full appear-ance. In marble or in metal the image imitates

the massive form of life. The picture that is

drawn with the pencil or painted with the brushconveys in turn warmth of life, glow of soul andmobilitj^ of features, which cold stubborn marblerefuses to express. But the image is more im-pressive. It is overwhelming by reason of its

greater reality and almost tangibility.

The Scripture therefore does not speak of theportrait, but of the image of God, who is invisible,

and in this expression the whole action of religion

centers itself. God gives his image. Man corniptsit. Man himself wants to make an image of God.This is a heinous sin. In the end sin reaches its

utmost height, when Satan, as the Beast, theMan of Sin, the Antichrist, erects an image of

himself, and demands the worship for it, whichis due alone to the *' express image of God's person"i. e. Christ.

This revelation of God is not to be taken in

a figurative or metaphorical sense. On the con-trary it is supernatural reality. Hence the sayingof Jesus to Philip: "He that hath seen me. hathseen the Father". (John 14:9) and hence the hopeof glorv' for every child of God. that once he alsoshall see Christ as he is, and that in seeing theglorified Christ he shall see God himself face toface. He shall not see Christ and afterwards and

alongside of him see God, but he shall see Godin Christ. In the iinregenerate. sin has made theimage of God unrecognizable. In Christ God gives

his image in all its ifullness and perfect clearness.

This was possible in our human nature, becausethe Son was the Image of the Father from all

eternity, and as bj' the shadow of this Image ourhuman nature was formed from the dust of theearth. He therefore who rests content with therevelation of God in nature, depressed as it is bythe curse, or he who rests content with the revela-

tion of God in the natural man, who is dead in

sin, can not come to the true knowledge of God.but must of necessitv fall away into idolatry or

false philosophy, ''No man knoweth the Father,save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son will

reveal him" (Mat. 11:27).

Christ therefore remains the center of our Divineworship, not only by what he spake, by what hedid, or what he suffered, but through his own Per-sonal Self. The glory of the apostles lies in whatthey have heard, and seen and handled of theWord of life. Christ is not only the chiefest amongthe prophets, and the Head of the apostles, He is

himself the personal embodiment of everythingthat is comprehended in the glory of our religion.

"In him dwelleth the fulness of the Godheadbodily." We name ourselves after Him. Salva-tion is given us in his name. From his Personand Name has gono forth the regenerating, life-

renewing power, which has changed the fashionof this world. True Christianity is only wherehe is woi'shipped. He rules not merely bv thetradition of what he once was, spake, did andendured, but by a real power, which even now,

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seated as he is at the right hand of God, heexercises over lands and nations, generations,

famihes and individuals. The course of the world's

history and the final destiny of every individual

life decides for him or against him. In loyal sub-

jection to him, the world will rejoice in peace,

turned against him, it will be troubled, and will

continue to be troubled, until it either returns to

him, or in rebellion against him works out its owndestruction.

And therefore every effort to weaken the

Christian religion and to detach it from Christ,

or to mingle it with philosophic and heathen

inventions must result in spiritual and moral

retrogression. He who in am^ wise puts the

supreme name of Christ on a line with that of

Buddha, Confucius or Mohammed, underminesthe Christian religion, and all religion, together

with the happy development of mankind, since

it all leads away from the knowledge of God,falsifies it, and hastens its loss. And while to

know God is itself eternal life, to be enjoyedhere and in the hereafter, all alienation fromChrist, all beclouding of his Name is no search

after life, but after death.

Seeking Christ for the sake of salvation is the

beginning. But he who understands what salva-

tion is, will for its sake cultivate the knowledgeof God. Of a truth Christ is the surety that once

the soul will be free from sin; the guarantee that

no guilt of sin will any more distress us; the

promise that once the body will be restored in

glory; and no less the hope of a home in the

Fathers' house of many mansions; of sacred joy

in the realm of eternal light, and of endless

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fellowship with all the saints of God; in brief,

of an inheritance that w^ill provide what no earhas heard, no eye has seen, and has not enteredthe heart of man. But all this is yet nothingelse than the glory of the palace and of thosewho may enter therein. But the glory of salva-

tion is found in God alone. To own God; toknow him with clear-sighted understanding; in

humble w^orship to fellowship with him; thatalone is the heart and the soul of everlasting

salvation.

Hence there is salvation in Christ both becausehe delivers you from sin, and because heguarantees the inheritance among the saints in

light. But salvation in Christ is realized in full

only when in him, as the Image of the invisible

God, you lay hold on God himself, and in theknowledge of God. which radiates from this Image,you imbibe eternal life. Salvation is not preparedby Christ, brought down to us by him, and into

which he shall once lead his own, in order that,

when all is done, he may retire from the scene.

On the contrary, there would be no salvatioDeven in the realm of glor>% if Christ would notbe forever there, as the One in whom God can beseen and known and enjoyed.But this does not tarry until we come to the

house of the Father on high. In the heavenlylife our knowledge of God will be made perfect,

but it is begun here. We have no bare promiseof future revelation, but there is a revelation of

God in Christ now within our reach. The Imageof God in Christ is sketched for us upon thesacred page. God is a Spirit, and this self-revela-

tion of God in the eternal AVord is expressed for

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us in the written Word. Atfer his ascension also

Christ lives in the Word. With it the portrait of

God's Image has gone out into the world. Its

presence lives among us. Thanks to the Wordwe are so familiar with the person and appearanceof Christ, that he walks with us by the way. Ashe moved among the people of his times, theimagination brings him into our own surroundings.And we take his word of the long ago to our-selves, as through he speaks personally to us for

admonition, encouragement and comfort.There is moreover not only a portrait of Christ

in the written Word, but powers, operations andinfluences have gone forth from him, w^hich havekindled fire in the human breast and have inspiredlove, holy resolves and spiritual consecration, in

all ages to this day, the thought of which uplifts

and cheers, and as it were, brings close the verybreath of Christ to us. All this is not merelythe passive result of his appear'ance twentycenturies ago, but in sober fact it is daily fed andnourished by himself, and from him makes its

appeal to us. Every soul that is bom anew,every holy thought that comes into the mind,every good work which we are enabled to do, is

all the work of Christ through the wondrousindwelling of the Holy Ghost. He would comeand take up his abode with us. And He is come,and still comes every day and every night toconfirm this indwelling in the congregation of thesaints. He knows and calls us by name and adaptshimself to the needs of the heart. And so he, whois the Image of the Invisible God, holds himselfbefore us, continues in us the work once begun,and through ebb and flood tides makes the ocean

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of God's unfathomable mercies glisten ever moregloriously.

Thus there is a knowledge of God which welearn and derive from Christ. But there is afar greater knowledge of God which He himselfimparts, which He brings, and makes fully clear

to us in the hidden parts of the soul. Themystical part of it is, that he who is the Image of

the invisible God, not only shows us this image,and fascinates us with it, but he chisels this imagein us. Our inner life is made conformable to theinner life of Christ. His image is imprinted uponthe saints of God. The highest knowledge of Godthat we can obtain in the earth is, when the imageof God in Christ renews the image of God in us.

46

''HALLOWED BE THY NAME."True knowledge of God does not come from

storing the memory. It only becomes this whenit finds its startingpoint in the things, which the

soul inwardly discerns and experiences. Every-thing here must go out from personal contact

between us and God. There is no knowledge of

light possible for one who was bom blind. Andas long as we do not perceive and discover Godin ourselves, and are consciously affected by work-ings that go out from him, true knowledge of Godis impossible. This is not felt by the sense of touch,

but in our own immediate spiritual perception,

so that not from reasoning, and not from whatothers have told us, but immediately from our ownselves we know that God is and that God is great.

In times when defence of the faith called for

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heroic sacrifice, our fathers steadily held this in

front. They insisted on the fact that God hadimplanted the sence of himself in man (sensiis

divinitatis), and that this was the seed of all

religion (semen religionis). But when persecution

ceased, this real spiritual background of all true

knowledge of God was wantonly forsaken, andfar too much place was given to intellectual

abstractions. Abstract knowledge of the true Godsuperceded the knowledge which is eternal life,

with the necessary result that book-learning

supplanted true godliness, and that the life of the

church become enervated and weak.The Church stood not alone in this. The retreat

from reality to the paper-world of abstract inven-

tions of the mind became noticeable in every

department of the higher life. Even art, andwith it poetry, became at length infected with

this evil virus. Forms, words, phrases, rhymesand poetastry took the place of golden speech,

which springs up from the fountain of life itself.

This was inevitably followed by an equally one-

sided reaction, which brought nothing but emo-tions, simple impressions, pure sensations, with

the necessary result that the consciousness wasdimmed, inner perceptions became vague, thoughtbecame confused and utterances chaotic.^ Suchwas the case in poetry and literature, and such

also in religion. Nothing remained except percep-

tions, sensations and impressions, which with un-believers led to a return to polytheism, and madebelievers lose themselves in sentimental Mj'Sticism.

For let it be well understood, all tihis is

dominated, in every domain, including that of

religion, by strong currents in all of human life.

241

Things are only right when the workings of theemotions and of the intellect unite in properequipoise and in pure harmony. But sin can nottolerate this. It continuall}^ breaks the equipoiseand banishes harmony, so that first, there is a

time when the intellect kills the feeling, and thenthere is a period when the feeling sentences theintellect to silence. And in the face of it all.

it is ever the sacred calling of preaching to formjust estimates of every abuse, and to jealously

urge the restoration of equipoise and of pureharmony.

In these meditations on the knowledge of God.we have first considered, therefore, the working of

the hidden fellowship from every side. We haveseen what the imagination, inspiration, the work-ing of the will, love, the impressions obtainedfrom nature, from man, and finally from Christ,

contribute to the true knowledge of God. Thereality of the secret walk with God had first tobe made palpable. This was done the more easily

because it harmonizes with the trend of the age.

Emphasizing the reality of inner sensationsagrees with current notions of the times. Barrentrifling with ideas in religion has at length also

repelled the common mind. Men crave the thingsthat caji be felt and handled and immediately en-joyed, and that can pleasantly affect the entire

personality. But it would be an unpardonablefault, which would soon avenge itself, if this wereall. The Scripture does not allow it. The Churchenters its protest against it. Every child of Godasks for more.

In Scripture the significance of the name is

profound and far-reaching. The name of the

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Lord calls us out from the flood of emotions to

higher and clearer consciousness. The feeling

is a gift of God. but the gift of consciousness

as a feature of the image of God in us far excels

it. Feeling can do no more than furnish the

material which the consciousness thinks upon,classifies and transposes into clearness of form.

Even the plant is sensitive. In an animal feel-

ing is sometimes exceedingly fine. But neither

plant nor animal received the glorious capacity

of the higher consciousness, which enables manto take in everj'thing. to sciiitinize and to estimatethings in their significance, to appreciate, and to

mirror them in his own thought. Consciousnessmakes man a King. In feeling he suffers andendures.Consciousness has all sorts of forms. A form

for art. A form for the moral, and a form for

the religious life. But of all these forms it is

always consciousness first, in which man finds

himself back again, becomes capable of mightyaction, and lifts himself up to the spheres of

the eternal Word. One-sided absorption in

mysticism has therefore always ended in degene-ration. Hence the Church must ever and anonsend out the sacred summons to elevate the trea-

sure of our religion to the height of our con-sciousness. Mysticism without more is darkness,and chaos. In our consciousness is the light.

In behalf of the knowledge of God this light

is first kindled b}' the Name of the Lord. Thisis at once understood, when on our kness beforethe Eternal, we first address him in general asGod. and then proceed to call him Abba, Father.He who in addressing God quietly, with emphasis

243

and attention calls him: My dear Father, per-

ceives at once, that by this name a world of

thought passes through his heart, and that fromthe high and holy places God comes nearer to

the soul. The name is what I call someone, andI can only name him whom I know. The nameis immediately connected with the knowledge of

the person. It is the summary in a single wordof what comes before me in the person. Andthough our human names are thread-worn, sothat they no longer express anything, yet we lookdifferently upon the man whom we hear addressedby name, than upon the stranger who passes usin the street.

This can be applied to God in a far higher^ense, in so much as the Name of the Lord is theexpression of his Being. Call him by the covenantname of Jehovah, by the patriachical name of

God Almighty, as child call him Father, or adrdress him by the full name of Father, Son andHoly Ghost, and the Name always expresses thebeing. God's name is no human invention. Godhas given it to himself and has revealed it untous. It conveys to us a summary knowledge of

God, and brings him closer to us. It carries himinto our consciousness, and explains him to us.

Without the Name of the eternal Being, relig-

ion and idolatry merge into one another; every-thing terminates in a dark religious perception;the ocean of polytheism presents itself to us;

and personal knowledge of the personal God is

more and more lost. But with the Name of theLord, distinction presents itself. Antithesis be-comes plain between false and true religion. Wecome personally to stand before the personal God,

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and learn to know with whom we have to do.

provided alwa3^s that we do not allow this Name to

run dead in empty sound. Sin also accounts for

this. The ''Our Father" is said without anythought of him, or of what the Father name im-plies, as though it were a dead term. It is the

curse of custom,which by continuous repetition

dulls the spiritual consciousness. Thus there is

hasty, thoughtless and senseless use of sacred

sounds, until in a moment of seriousness you turnin upon yourself, reverently repeat these holynames putting your soul into them, and you be-

come surprised at the riches that glisten in them.When this becomes the case, the Name of the

Lord is a torch that is lighted in the conscious-ness, and from the darkness of the emotions,gradually and of itself the liidden being of Godlooms up before j^ou with ever increasing clear-

ness. Then you stand personally before God.and his Name always explains as much of his

being, as at that moment the heart needs. Andthus thoughtful consciousness can not and mustnot be content with stammering the Name. Forthen the name becomes the occasion for think-ing out what it implies, and for explaining Godas far as possible to the consciousness. Notevery one can do this equally well. The capacityof the consciousness to absorb is very limitedwith one, and wonderfully great with another.Indeed there is no advance save as each oneacquires knowledge of God according to the mea-sure of his consciousness. That we should in thiswise acquire knowledge of the things of theworld, and of the several departments of science,and that with respect to the Name of the Lord

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we should neglect the same, can never be allowed.

The name of the Lord must be hallowed. In-

difference with respect to this is irreconcilably-

opposed to the hallowing of God's Name.

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''THE NAME OF THE FATHER, ANDOF THE SON, AND OF THE

HOLY GHOST."In our intercourse with the world and with

society, intimacy is wonderfully deepened by thepermission of calling a person by name. Thisintimacy becomes closer still, when the familyname gives place to the baptismal name. Child-ren do not know this transition. Rules of polite-

ness onl}' come in force when the shoes of child-

hood have been outgrown. These rules but intendto heighten the unconventionality of childlife,

and to elevate it to nobler forms, which purposelycreate a certain distance betw-een man and man,and allow individuals to develop themselves morefreely. When in later years, however, closer

acquaintance leads to friendship, or association

in a common pursuit lessens the distance, andtitles fall away, and for the first time we call oneanother by name, the method of intercoureemodifies itself entirely. We feel ourselves at oncedrnwn closer together, and it seems that mutualconfidence but waits the chance to reveal itself.

As- a rule, the higher the station of the personwho allows us to call him by name, the greaterthe leap from the estrangement to the more confi-

dential intercourse. It is great indeed when wecall a man by his family name. It is greatestwhen we address him by his personal name.

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Another difiference is, that among women, evenas with children, the personal, baptismal nameis used, and almost never the family name, whileamong men as a rule the family name is in

vogue, and the use of the personal name indicates

a far higher degree of intimacy. While at lengthin family life every more dignified title falls away,and the use of the family- name has no meaning,but everything hinges on the baptismal name, or

passes over into an entirely other sort of names,which express the relation which one sustains

to the other. Until finally we come to the mother-and father-name, and we speak of husband andwife, and parents say: my child. These namesof common use in the family are more than sounds.They express something essential in the mutualrelationships. They are somewhat on a par withthe names we give to a physician, clergyman, orsexton, which indicate that we do not meantheir person but their office. But while withthe latter these persons, and the relation in

wliich they stand to us, separate themselves,the father-name, the mother-name and the nameof ''my child" contain this excellent trait, that theyexpress simultaneously^ both the persons and therelationships, and that in this way they indicatethe highest that a name can express. If thenafter these observations we address God as OurFather or as Abba, dear Father, we appreciatemore fully than before, the supreme privilegewhich this Father-name confers upon a child ofGod.The names by which we seek to indicate the

Eternal, are not all equally intimate. The vaguename of God brings no approach. The mere

word God indicates a highly-exalted Being, thatfar transcends mankind. But by itself it has nomeaning. It is exclusive and reveals nothing.

It does not indicate a single relationship. It

only becomes significant and vital, when we putthe word my before it. and speak of ''my God",or of the "Covenant-God".The same applies to the name: the most

High. In Scripture we find it used in circles out-side of Israel. It occurs in connection withMelchizedek, with Nebuchadnezzar, Isaiah 14:14,

in the heathen world where Daniel dwelt, and withgood and bad angels. In Ps. 82:6 angels are called:

children of the most High. Gabriel speaks of

the power of the Highest that shall overshadowMar>'. Demons likewise call Jesus: Thou Son of

God, most High (Luke 8:28). This is but natural.

This name of the most High merely indicates that

our God is exalted far above all created things.

But it is not a name that brings him closer to us,

or that initiates one into his secret fellowship.

It is altogether different when God reveals him-self as the Almighty, as Jehovah and as Lord. Thepatriarchs were permitted to call Him the MightyGod. This indicates protection, a refuge in timeof trouble, surety of the given promise, a partyto the Covenant, who will break everj' form of

opposition in our behalf. Hence the rich develop-ment of this name in the manifold references to

God as our high tower, our Refuge, our Rock;as of a God in whose tent we may dwell, and whois our hidding-place. It is all the unfolding of

this one idea : God is the Almighty One, whowatches over us to bless us.

The same is true of the Jehovah name. This

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also is no hollow sound, but an expression of theBeing of God; even of that in him which weneed for our comfort in the midst of these chang-ing scenes of life. Everything about us comesand goes. We ourselves change continuouslywith every changing thing around us. Scarcelyhas spring given way to summer, before autumnis at hand to pass on into the winter-sleep of

death. This antagonizes our inner being, whichcalls for immortality; which longs to remain like

unto itself, and which at the bar of its own con-sciousness maintains in old age identity with theself of the child. But this change around us andwithin us ceaselessly goes on. There is nothingsure. It is all as the rocking of waves, on whichwe are rocked and irresistibly driven along. Andin the midst of this restless ocean the wonderfulname of Jehovah: I am that I am, is the revela-tion of the enduring, the abiding, the eternal, theunchangeable, and becomes one with the name of

Rock. Thus the result of this name-revelationis, that he to whom Jehovah has shown grace, andwho himself has laid hold on Jehovah, has in

God the fixed point, from whence he defies therestless tossing of the waters on the sea of life,

and lays hold on eternity itself in the God whomhe worships. To know Jehovah it to have eternallife.

The same is the case with the name: Lord. Hewho only speaks of God says nothing of therelation in which he stands to Him. But he whosays: Lord, our God, or God the Lord, bearswitness to a relation which he sustains to theEternal Being. He is His property and servantFrom him he expects orders and ordinances. He

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acknowledges that he should live for God, becauseGod is his Lord, so that he exists solely andalone for the sake of God.

In this revelation of the Name, the love of

God that sought us and drew us, has made still

further progress. Israel was taught to know theFather-name, which is by no means revealedfor the first time in the New Testament. WhenGod said to Malachi: If then I am a Father,where is mine honor? this one saying clearly

shows that the sense and significance of theFather-name was well-kno^^^l in Israel. Even theantithesis with the child was understood in it.

Or was it not said of David: I shall be to hima Father. And he shall be to me a son. Everyone feels that in the Father-name the EternalBeing comes close to us. It is as though all

distance falls away, and as though by this nameGod himself invites us to warm confidence, close

fellowship and intimate communion. The mother-name would have done this still more tenderly,

but not so significantly, because the mother-nameis more closely associated with childhood andearly youth, while the father-name embraces all

of life. The Father-name of God moreover includes

both the tenderness of the mother-name and theenergetic confidentiality of the father-name."Though a mother may forget her sucking child,

yet will I not forget thee. (Is. 49:15)The inner religious life awakens in all its rich-

ness and fullness only at the sound of the Father-name. For now there is family life, continuousdwelling with God, the outpouring of the heart,

the holding of oneself fast by God in confidenceand love, in the fellowship of prayer and in a

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tenderness, which no longer hides anything. Moreyet, the Father-name includes the name of thechild. With the Abba Father comes the surpris-

ing discover>^ that one is himself a child of God,and with it is disclosed the nobility of our race,

the royal exaltation above everything that sur-

rounds us in the unconscious creation, and thethought which tranforms all of life, that this is

not our real life, for that our real life is withand by and in our God.With this the last step is made possible. And

at length comes the full revelation of Father,Son and Holy Ghost, of the one and threefoldBeing. This at once establishes .the connectionof the relation which we sustain to God with theBeing of God itself. By itself the Father-namemight yet stand outside of the Divine Being,and merel}' have been borrowed from, humanfamily life. In this case it would merely imply,that as we are children of our father at home,God also watches as a Father over us. But all

this becomes different at once. In his BeingGod is eternally Father, and in this same Beingof God is the Son. Hence what is known onearth in the family is only the image of whateternally was in the Being of God. It is nolonger a comparision. The real is expressed inthe Father-name. Likewise when we are privi-ledge to be called God's Child, this name is notborrowed from comparision with the family, butit comes to us directly from the image of God.He is not merely called our Father, but he is

eternally our Father. We are not merely calledhis child. We are his child, generated by himand born from him.

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This is salvation. Wherefore he who takes theconfession of the Trinity as a mere doctrinalquestion, does not fathom by far what this revela-tion of Father, Son and Holy Ghost implies.Only the Triune God is the wealth and the delightof the soul.

48

"WHO DWELLETH ON HIGH ANDBEHOLDETH THE THINGS."

IN THE EARTH.

He who seeks to live near unto God, and doesnot know how to keep his distance from God,commits sin. This is sadly evident at times in

prayer before others, and shows itself at once bythe use of "you" in place of "thee" and "thou".In countries where the language contains twoforms o£ address, one more common and one moredignified, it has always been the custom to usethe more common form in prayer. In Francewe have the 'Notre Pere qui est aux cieux, tonregne vienne"; and in German: "Unser Vater derdu im Himmel bist, dein Name werde geheilight."

In addressing his father a Dutch child always usedthe terms du and dein, which in meaning lay in

between the vulgar Dutch "jou" and the dignified

"thee and thou." But this has been changed. Toaddress his father now otherwise than by "thee andthou" would be considered a breach on the partof the Dutch Child of the Fifth Commandment.When thus in addressing an earthly father a whole-some appreciation of language avoids the use of

vulgar terms, it betokens a want of sufficient

reverence before the Father who is in heaven, whenone tries to show a certain daring, in thus ad-

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dressing the Highest Being. It betrays the tend-ency to show how intimately the man who praysholds converse with his God. And while this is

done at the expense of reverence towards God, it

leads to sin.

Both what is exalted and what is ordinary havevery naturally a certain trait in common. A kingon his throne is exalted, his butler is only ordinary.Yet they have this in common, that their familyname is rarely used. As a rule they are spokenof by name. In England people speak of KingGeorge. Almost no one thinks of his family nameof Windsor. Likewise every one knows the butlerby his first name, while in case of a payment of

taxes his family name is frequently a subject of

inquiry.

This is because the exalted departs from theordinary measure of our life, and so does thatw^hich falls below it. As we read in Isaiah 57:15,

"For thus saith the high and lofty One that in-

habiteth eternity; I dwell in the high and holyplace, with him also that is of a contrite andhumble spirit". The lofty and the humble arehere mentioned in one breath. Our ordinary life

has certain measures, forms and dimensions,certain well known figures and appearances. All

this together forms our human life. And it la

the sin of every thing that is called heathen,that it brings the Almighty down to the level of

the human. Thus the heathen make an imageof a man, or of an animal, and kneel down to it,

and so destroy the incalculable difference betweenhuman and Divine life.

In the face of it Holy Scripture discloses theholy sphere of the lofty, i. e. of a life that goes

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out far and high above our earthly, human hfe.Nature gives us an impression of it in the firma-ment that arches high above us, in the sky thathastens upwards, and in the mighty thunder thatrolls through the dark hosts of clouds. In aheavy thunder-storm, in the hurricane that ragesupon the great waters, in an earthquake whichmakes the ground to vibrate under our feet,

with a volcano that vomits forth its lava, everyone feels that we have to do with powers thatexceed the limits of our human life. They arethe interpreters of the existence of a higher,mightier world than ours. Wherefore all this takesits place in what we call the lofty. It ascendshigher still when we lift up our soul and mind tothe world of angels and of the blessed in eternallight. But higher still is the Most Highest, OurGod in his Majesty. And every portrayal whichGod himself gives in prophecy of the palace of theDivine King, and of the throne of his Omnipotenceabove, lifts itself so high and far above all mea-sure of our common life that of our own accordwe honor therein the Past in its completeness.This must be so, in order that we might continueto be man, and leave God to be God, and thatwe might never lose from sight the distance atwhich the Creator stands high above the creature.

When we realize this distance reverence attendsour worship, and in deep humility of spirit wekneel before his lofty throne.This same God who dwelleth on high, in the

lofty and holy places, also dwells with him thatis of a contrite and humble spirit. He humblethhimself to behold the things that are in heaven,and in the earth (Ps. 113:6). The laborer and the

poor are frequently treated with far more consid-eration by those of assured position, than by thoseof lower social standing. When a subject ap-proaches his king, as a rule he is surprised by thekind treatment which he receives. And since theLord God is highly exalted above every one of us,

it is no contradiction, but entirely along the sameline, that when he turns himself to his creature,

he refreshes and comforts it by an holy. Divinefamiliarity.

Sacred reserve therefore becomes us in ourapproach to God. Familiarity with the Eternalmust always proceed from the side of God, andmay never be presumed upon by the creature.When man makes bold to ignore the boundaryof reverence, God repulses him. For then manexalts himself at the expense of the loftiness ofhid Lord. This interrupts the secret walk withGod. At last he retains nothing but vain beatingin the air after the Infinite, after a higher Being,a higher blessing, a name without content, asound that volatilizes; and he has lost his Fatherand his God.The Our Father puts us under solemn restraint.

By grace we are permitted to invoke God as ourFather. But for the sake of reverence it followsat once : Who art in heaven, in order that, as theCatechism warns us, no one should think of

God in an earthly way.That God is the Lofty and Holy One who

dwelleth on high, and that there is a secret walkwith him, because he humbleth himself to beholdthe things in the earth, creates of itself a two-fold endeavor to overcome the distance thatseparates him from us. One is, that God comes

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down to us. The second is, that we lift up oursoul to him. It begins with the first. The secondfollows. In Paradise after the fall God comesdown, to Adam, and this condescension on thepart of God goes on thoughout all Revelation.This coming down is made perfect in the mangerof Bethlehem in behalf of our entire race. Atthe great feast of Pentecost in Jerusalem God theHoly Ghost comes down into human hearts.

This descent of God still continues with every soul

that passes from death into life. Then God comesto take up his abode in the heart. Then he praysfor us, and in us with groanings that are unutter-able, and he who dwelleth on high dwells at thesame time in the contrite heart.

Parallel with this runs the lifting up of oursoul to God. "Unto thee, O Lord, do I lift up mysoul" (Ps. 25:1). What we seek is "to dwell in

the house of the Lord," to take refuge in himas our "high Tower," and to live our life apartfrom the world in order to dwell with the HolyOne. "Seek the things that are above whereChrist is" (Col. 3:1) and to you will be given"walks to w^alk among those that are above"(Zech. 3:7).

When God comes down to you, the idol of

self, even as Dagon's image, must be throwndown. But when this is done, and your spirit

is contrite, and you have come down from yourimagined heights to humbler perceptions of your-self, the wall of separation falls down, the dis-

tance shortens, and the moment arrives when youfeel that God is with you in your own heart, andthat von cannot live otherwise than near untoGod.'

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Reverence before the Almighty has alwaysproved itself most deep and most true with thosewho stand nearest to the Lord. While on the otherhand they who have never entered into seeretfellowship ^^^th God. have become more andmore devoid of all salutar\^ fear, awe and rever-ence before the Lord our God. In many casesthey even profane his Holiness by reckless andthoughtless use of his Name as an expletive.

It is grace, and grace alone, that the High andLofty One takes his finite creature into his con-fidence, enters into secret fellowship with him,admits him into his tent and visits him in his

heart. And they alone enjoy the delight of this

sacred privilege, who receive it in a thankful andworshipful spirit. They have the promise that theywill be tranlated one daj' from this earthly intothe heavenly state, in order that in the high andlofty Fatherhouse of God, they may dwell for-

ever with the Lord.

"BEFORE I WAS AFFLICTED I

WENT ASTRAY."

There is also an entirely personal knowledge ofGod which comes to us through the ebb andflood tides of sorrow and of joy. But this mustnot be exaggerated. The idea that disappoint-ment and soiTow as a rule open the soul to God,and that suffering always makes perfect, is loudlycontradicted by experience. Undoubtedly greatdisasters, which strike heavily and suddenly,such as pestilence, storms that threaten ship-wreck, destructive earthquakes, danger of deathin sudden illness, remind the thoughtless for a

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monent, that there is a God with whom we haveto do. But as soon as the danger is past, it

takes but a little while for the faint impressionto wear away. After a deliverance from pestil-

ence, for instance, unblushing worldliness hasfrequently shown itself more godless than before.Everything was all right again. One was almostashamed that at heart he had been afraid. Butnow one was master of himself again, and wouldimprove his chance to enjoy life, before thepossible return of similar ill luck. Or where theydid not take so wide a swing as this, and dis-

sipation was carefully avoided, the return after

disaster to old-time self-sufficiency was almostsystematic, and life was lived again, if not directly

opposed to, yet uithout, God.And this was not always the worst. Great

adversities have frequently led souls, that shareda general belief, into atheism. It was firmly held,

that if in the hour of need God were but invoked,deliverance was sure. At the sickbed of husbandor child the prayer arose: O, God, save them.But when this prayer evidently brought no relief,

and inexorable death dragged the loved one into

the grave, the whole soul rose up in rebellion.

If, prayer brings no help in distress, there is noGod. Or if there is a God, he can be no Godof love, and in bitterness of soul life is lived

in rebellion against God.Suffering truly makes perfect, but only when

grace is known in the heart, and not with the

unregenerate child of the world. In sooth, suffer-

ing can be a means in the hand of God to bring

a wanderer to a stand, and to conversion, but

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even then conversion is effected by the work of

Divine grace in the soul, and suffering in connec-tion with this is merely an accidental means of

aid. As Job sat among the ashes his wife did

not hesitate to say to him; "Curse God, and die,"

And it is only the soul, which like that of the

Psalmist, is a subject of heavenly grace, that is

able, after deliverance from trouble, to confess

before God: "Before I was afflicted I went astray:

but now, being instructed, I keep thy word"(Ps. 119:67).

In joyous and prosperous times conditions are

still worse. As a rule they who live at ease

are farther estranged from God, than they whohave to work for daily bread. The sharplydrawn antithesis betw^een the rich man and poorLazarus has been verified in all ages and amongall peoples. Radiant beauty, abounding health,

unbroken prosperity in one's career or business,

great happiness at home, abundance of materialwealth, so that care and trouble were unknown,have almost never seemed able to foster true

godliness. They rather fortified a man in his self-

sufficiency, in the high estimate of his own self,

and drew the soul away from God, rather thanthat by them the soul felt itself drawn towardhim. Such has been the case with individual per-sons, with whole families and nations. When therewas peace, and national power grew so that thepeople revelled in wealth, they went with equalpace almost always spiritually backwards. Whenthe Dutch had to fight hard and long for spiritual

liberty, religion and public morals stood high.

But when in the 18th century gold streamed in

from every side, and wealth became the law of

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life, the nation became decadent. The mightyworld-empire of Rome fared the same way.Sobriety and restraint made it great, until luxuryand love of pleasure began from within, what bar-baric invasions from without brought to a finish.

Even of South Africa it may be asked, if the goldfrom its mines which suddenly cast treasures intothe laps of the people, did not hasten its presentestate.

There have been persons, families, and wholegenerations, which from gratitude for materialblessings became more tenderly united to God.But this was only because grace preceded andaccompanied prosperity. Solomon remains thehistoric type of how even with God's childrenprosperity can work a spiritual decline. Theyare strong legs that can carry wealth, says theproverb. And the exception is rare in which Satandoes not succed in the abuse of our prosperityagainst him from whom it comes.In joy and sorrow both however most helpful

means are offered to obtain deeper knowledgeof God; negatively in joy, positively in sorrow.

When in examining his wavs the child of Goddiscerns that in days of joy and plenty he incurs

the risk of becoming mechanical in prayer, of

fostering pride, of building more confidence onhimself than on God, and of being less persistent

in his secret communion with God, it will turn,

if he is sincere, the trend of his mind and heart.

As strongly as his heart inclined before at timestowards the goods of this world, he will now beginto be afraid of them. It becomes clear to himthat God and worldly wealth do not agree, butrather antagonize each other. He feels that wealth

260

itself is not at fault, for there was wealth in

Paradise, and there is nothing but wealth in theFatherhouse above, but that sin in our heartpoisons our wealth, and creates a power that is

hostile to God.In this way God becomes more spiritual to

him, and in God, who is a spirit, he learns bycontrast to understand better than before theprice, the significance and the worth of the trea-

sure of the spiritual life. There have been menand women among the saints of God who in themidst of wealth have become richer in God, andhave been merely stewards of the goods entrustedto their care in his Name, for the good of his

church and of his poor. The impulse to do goodsprang not mfrequently from the fear, lest their

wealth should draw them away from God.But greater is the knowledge of God which is

learned in times of deep sorrow, when there wasprevious spiritual knowledge of God in the heart.

Grievous affliction breaks the highness of self.

It makes us realize that there are powers overwhich we have no control, and which can violentlyattack our strength, our lot in life, our family,our prospects of the future, and the loves of ourheart. We may call these powers death, sickness,

slander, anger, hatred, or what we like. But whenthey come upon us, and succeed in threateningor in breaking up our happiness, we feel that theystand before us as powers in hostile array, thatthey are independent of us, and that they havefar more power over us than we over them. Andthis revelation of power is a revelation of the real

power, which God has over us and over the world.As long as life runs a smooth course we know

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about God, we worship him, and his spiritual

power is felt in the inner life of the soul. Butit is an altogether different matter when thepower of God is seen in the material, outwardlife. For it is in this that affliction makes a breach.It breaks it, and you see and feel and handle thepower, that comes into the life from without,working havoc and distress. There is no powerwith us to face it. And in our powerlessnesswe discover that there is real power in God alone,

which great and strong is able to bring deliverance,

and to repulse the evil that is arrayed against us.

Thus life becomes an arena in which thesedestructive powers work against us and our God,and the saving power of God enters into thecombat on our side. At first we continue to takepart ourselves, but when it becomes most fierce,

we are incapacitated, at length we become alto-

gether passive, and we feel and perceive that Godand his angels fight for our salvation. When they

are snares of sin, by which Satan seeks to foil

us, this conflict is most exalted, most holy. In

the end we feel that all the angels and all thedevils watch intently to see, what will gain the

day in the soul; the power of sin or the power of

God.

This conflict maj' also bear an exalted character

with sorrow in the outward life, as bj^ means of

new affliction Satan seeks to do us harm, andwhen in the end. by God's help, w^e may sing of

victory. For by this very struggle the soul learns

to understand more fully than ever before, that

in the thing which Satan brings upon us, the

appointment of God's love is carried out; that it

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is the purifying process of the melting-pot; theseparating process of the winnowing fan; theunfolding process of the power of faith; theinspiring process of our spiritual heroism; theloosening process of ties which we prized morehighlj^ than the tie which binds us to God; theequipment with the whole armor of God againststill greater temptations to come; the anchoringof the soul to the higher world; and the humblingof self within us, in order that even in the heart,

God alone may be great.

And then it is no longer the question of highest

importance, whether we are delivered from our

trouble, or whether we are overcome by it.

If God brings deliverance, there is outwardtriumph, which at times is sorely needed to exhibit

the splendor of the supreme power of the Lordover death and pestilence, over slander and anger,

over Satan and fortune. But this deliverance is

not the main thing. If the exhibition of the

supremacy of God is deferred to the life to come,we must rest content. The chief matter at

stake is, that the gold, that was darkened, mayglisten again; that we shall come forth from the

fiery trial with greater spiritual riches than weever had before; that Satan shall be the loser

by us and that God shall be the gainer; that

God shall more clearly and more intimately

be revealed to the soul in his reality, and that,

as from the soul of David, so from our soul,

may rise the word of testimony: "Before I

was afflicted, I went astray, but now have I keptthy word." All glory to Thy Name.

"WITH THEE THERE IS FORGIVENESS,•THAT THOU MAYEST BE FEARED."

There is still another way that leads to knowl-edge of God. It is one that cannot be dealt withsave with most delicate care. We mean the awfalway that leads through the depths of sin. Asingle word of Jesus indicates it at once. ToSimon the Pharisee he said: "To whom little is

forgiven, the same loveih little" (Luke 7:47).V/ith this word our Lord places two persons incontrast with each other. On one side the mosthonorable citizen of Nain, Simon, his host. Andon the other side a woman, who was known in

the little town a? one of ill repute, a publicsinner, as was the case. As her sins were many,she had been forgiven more, and consequently sheloved more. The virtuous Simon, on the otherhand, who had sinned less, was forgiven less,

and consequently he loved less.

If love for Christ is one of the richest sources,

from which vital knowledge of God flows outtowards us. for this woman, the way of deep sin

thanks to the larger forgiveness, was the meansto attain fuller knowledge of God. He who onlystrives after book-knowledge of God, can notunderstand this, and will never be able to putup with this vigorous word of Jesus. He on theother hand who knows from experience that warm,and upbuilding knowledge of God is fed andcarried most effectively by love for God, accepts

this word of Jesus gratefully, even though it

makes him shudder.The contrast between the dark nature of sin

264

and holiness is so sharp, that for the momentit takes a violent effort on the part of the soul tounderstand that a deep way of sin can be onethat leads to richer knowledge of God. And it be-hooves us to treat this aspect of the subject in

hand the more humbl}', because of those who, evenin our land, in a satanic way have misapplied this

word of Jesus, at times shamelessly confessing in

private: "I gloriously sinned again, after whichI had a blessed time of finding." Such satanicsayings are nothing else than a slander on themercies of our God. But though this horribleabuse of Jesus' word compels utmost carefulness,the heavenly gold that glitters in this word, mustnot be dimmed. It is and remains true, thatgreater sin with greater forgiveness can lead togreater love and thereby to a richer knowledgeof God.This word alone offers us the key to the beat-

itude of the murderer on the cross, and to thepromise of Jesus, that presently with himself hewould be in Paradise. Fundamentally it is thesame as what David wrote in Ps. 130:4. "Butthere is forgiveness with thee, that thou mayestbe feared." From the forgiveness of sin springstender attachment in the service of the Lord.Sin, forgiveness, love, and from this love knowl-edge of God, are the four beads in the onesacred string.

The whole Gospel rests in fact upon this recog-nition, and the saying of one of the heroes ofthe faith in earlier days: "Felix culpa," whichmeans that there was something glorious in thefall, can never be entirely ignored. Theangels of God have no knowledge of sin, hence

265

also they know no forgiveness. Hence again thej^

have no knowledge of the tender love whichsprings from forgiveness received, nor of the richer

knowledge of God which is born from this ten-derer affection. It is foreign to them, and there-fore the apostle writes regarding this mytery thatthey are desirous "to look into it." Undoubtedlythe revelation of the Being and Attributes of God,as it came to us in the mighty work of theAtonement is far richer, far more tender andmore striking than the first revelation in Paradise.The grace, mercy and compassion of our God for

the Sinner give us a look into the Father heartwhich apart from sin would never have beenpossible. The knowledge of God which we receive

in and though Christ far exceeds all other knowl-edge of him. And yet in the Scripture themission of the Son to this world is motived bysin alone. Everj- deeply moved utterance of

love for God in old and New Testament springs

from the thrilling experience of the heart, thatthe sei-^-ant and handmaiden of the Lord havebeen redeemed from sin and delivered from misery.

And neither reconciliation and sanctification, nordeliverance from misery would have been think-

able, had not sin engulfed the world. Evennow it is frequently seen that the cool sympathyfor God on the part of the unconverted differs

from the warm attachment to God on the part

of the redeemed in that the unconverted alwaysdiscount sin, while the redeemed always start

out from the knowledge of misery, that by reason

of the knowledge of sin they may arrive at the

knowledge of God.

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Love for God apart from sin operates mostpurely with the angels. And yet, however glorious

their love for God may be, it is a different anda lesser love than that of the redeemed sinner

for his God and Savior. It is not for us to say,

how revelation would have unfolded itself, hadnot Adam fallen and had not Christ come. Thismuch is certain, the rich knowledge of God'sboundless mercies is the highest knowledge of

God for us, and this is immediately connectedwith the loss of Paradise in sin and misery.

This holds true with individuals. Many peoplewho call themselves Christians in these dayscount little with the knowledge of sin. They werereligiously brought up, and have not fallen intoopen sin. Hence sin does not oppress them, and theneed of reconciliation is no longer felt. TheCross addresses them differently. Their Christ-ianity is one of high ideals and good works.The sad result is that they have less and less

mystical, tender and cherishing love for God, andthat the "Blessed is the man whose sin is covered"(Ps. 32:1) indicates a state of happiness, whichis foreign to them.There are others who have become deeply

versed in the knowledge of sin, either through the

terrors of the law, or by the fact that Godabandoned them to their sin. But at length

they came to a halt. A burning thirst after

reconciliation took hold of them. And havingfound the same in their Savior they are nowfilled with praise and adoration of the merciesof the Lord. Their love for the God of unfathom-able compassion is more and more increased.

And according to the greater measure of their sin,

they enter into a far richer measure of fellowshipwith the Father who is in heaven, and of theknowledge of his holy Name. A more brutaloutbreak in sin is not at all the necessary back-ground of this experience. As in the case of

Luther, a deeper insight into ordinary sin cancreate an equally burning desire after reconcilia-

tion. Of all the apostles St. Paul glories mostenthusiastically from the love of the redeemed,because, having persecuted the church of God, hefelt himself to be the chief of sinners. And so

it still remains true, that he who has fallen deeplyinto sin, and has come to a full and genuineconversion, has attained the thirst after reconcilia-

tion and the gratitude of love for the same, in

such a measure of intensity, as to spread in a

surprising manner blessings everywhere, even to

the extend that at times one can envy him the

warmth of his inner life.

Shall we then sin, that grace, and with it

love and knowledge of God may increase? Farfrom it. This question is diabolical. He who pro-

pounds it does not love God. He offers God'slove an insult in the face. But it does imply,

that it is safe for every child of God to look

more deeply into the sins of his own heart; notto ignore his secret sins; ever and anon to applyagain the full atonement to all the breadth andlength of the sins of his heart; and thus to

become ever more deeply sensible of how end-lessly much there was that needed forgiveness,

and that has been forgiven.

There are two ways that here present them-selves. One man minimizes ihis sin. He ia

offended when he is told of his guilt. He will nothear it said that he is guilty in all sorts of ways.He holds himself erect, and deems himself asaint. This is the way to cover up one's sin,

and not to thirst after reconciliation ; not to returnthanks for reconciliation and love; and con-sequently to remain far removed from the knowl-edge of God. But there is also another way.It is that of humbling oneself. In this way thechild of God distrusts himself. He is grateful

for having sin pointed out. to him. He investi-

gates ever more closely his heart, his past, andthe present state of his soul. And so there

is everytime new need of reconciliation, new joyin forgiveness received, more love for the MercifulOne, and an ever deeper entering into the knowl-edge of God his Savior.

Moreover he who as a Christian man imitates

Simon the Pharisee, and esteems himself to bejust, can not bear that one who is a ^'Sinner"

is addressed by Jesus. There is the exalted sense

of one's own saintliness, which has no place for

the compassion shown the prodigal who returns.

But when by a deeper knowledge of our own sin

we feel that we ourselves are small, and we refresh

ourselves each day with a new draught from the

cup of reconciliation, there will awaken in our

hearts something of the joy of the angels of Godover one sinner that repenteth, which is greater

than the joy over the ninety and nine who haveno need of repentance. For this is the Gospel of

Christ.

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51

"I ACKNOWLEDGE ^lY SINUNTO THEE."

Although it is a Divine appointment, for whichit behooves us to give thanks, it is neverthelessdifficult for us, sinners, to realize that in the endeven sin is compelled to become a means of

leading us into deeper knowledge of God, and. of

making the majesty of the Lord to shine uponus more brightl3^ That as the tempter of men,Satan abuses this appointment of God, that in

a heaven-defying way he may mingle sin andreligion, does not in the least darken the gloryof this appointment. Neither can anyone say,

whether, in case Satan first, and after him Adam,had not fallen, the Lord God would have openedanother wa}-, unknown to us now, by which tolead us into an equally deep, if not a still moreintimate knowledge of his Name and Being.

All these reflections however do not advanceus a single step. We have been born in a sinful

world. We have to count with it. And this

being the case it is meet for us to thank God,that he makes good to come out of evil, andthat he uses even sin to enrich the knowledgeof his Name and Being in the inner perception of

his child. Grace, conpassion and mercy, as revela-

tions of Divine love are more profound, thanDivine blessing in prosperity and Divine help in

time of need. But the knowledge of this grace

and compassion can only be kno%vn by him, whohas tasted the sweets of reconciliation, and whocan count himself not only among God's crea-

270

tures, but also among the redeemed. In Christthere has come to us a knowledge of God'sname and being, such as has never been knownoutside of him, but Bethlehem as well as Golgothafind their cause alone in the salvation of sinners.

Even the knowledge of the Almighty powerof God has been greatly enriched by sin. Doesnot the apostle say that the "exceeding great-

ness of his power, according to the mighty work-ing of his strength (Eph. 1:19) was only revealedto us in the resurrection of Christ and in theregeneration of believers." In the re-creation therewas a greater exhibition of majesty and of al-

mighty power than in the creation. In causingChrist to rise from the dead there was a mightierunfolding of Divine strength than in the first call

from nothing into being. But there would havebeen no resurrection without death, and no re-

creation without fall, and since both fall anddeath find their starting point in sin alone, this

higher revelation of the Almighty power of God,which shows itself in resurrection and in re-crea-

tion would never have come to us in this way,had we not sinned. And in order to get the fiill

meaning of what this implies we must go downstill one step more, and come to acknowledge, that

in the hand of God sin becomes the means to

heighten, and make more clear, our inner per-

ception of the holiness of God.

Of course they who in their unconverted state

still walk in the way of sin, are here left out of

count. We only speak in this connection of the

redeemed, of those who have found eternal life

itself in knowing God. And how did the history

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of sin in their case run? How runs it now? Twoclasses of persons should here be kept apart.Those who broke out into sin in an offensiveway, and the others who remained withm thebounds of an ordinary sinful existence. Maryof Magdala and Salome do not stand in one line.

Peter, who thrice denied his Master, passedthrough an entirely different inward strugglefrom John, who remained faithful to his Savior.The spiritual experiences of the two differ in this

respect, that the sinner who went far astray cansometimes in his conversion arouse the jealousyof the sinner who remained within bounds. Theinner tumult of the first is far greater, his strugglein the transition far more heroic. His gloryingin grace, when at last the burden of his guilt falls

from his shoulders, is much more abundant. Theprodigal who returns has something, which theson, who remained at home, lacks.

He who deems however that the calm, ordinarysinner can not drain the cup of grace to thebottom, if we may so express it, is mistaken.Even he who is guilty of the heinous sins of

drunkenness, immorality or dishonesty, runs thegreat risk of counting these extravagant dis-

sipations as his real, actual sin, and of ignoringthe sinful nature back of them. It is repeatedlyseen, that such sinners who have been convertedfrom their former evil practices, entirely get awayfrom them, while for the rest they continue insin, without making any advances in sanctification

of heart and life. On the contraiy they who havecontinued unblameable before the eyes of men,have after their conversion, a much keener eye,for the refined, hidden sins of the heart, and

272 .

as fruit of their faith the^' unfold a much richer

Christain life. The conveil from gross sins fre-

quently counts all his life long with the weight of

pounds alone, while the quiet convert weighswith the assay-balance.

This is not true of all. Alas, there are not afew who turn the fact itself that they remainedfree from great sins, into a cloak in which theymake a fine appearance, and with their ordinarysins of pride and quiet selfishness go on to life's

end, without ever putting up a serious fight

against them. But if we take the redeemed in

the narrower sense, the tenderness of consciencewith respect to sin even goes so far, that theydistrust their own examination of heart, and al-

ways end with the prayer that God will also

make known to them their secret sins, and for-

give them. For when the heart does not con-demn us, God is greater than our heart, and heknows all things, even those that hide in theinnermost recesses of the soul.

But in whatever way and measure the innerstruggle against sin awakens, it always beginswith a troubled conscience. And that which dis-

turbs us in this is always the voice of God up-braiding us for sin. This is partly the case withpeople of the world whose conscience at first is

never entirely extinguished. But with them the

voice of God in the conscience is not recognized.

They take it either as a troublesome resistance

on the part of their spiritual nature against thethe things which their carnal nature craves. Sothey sear the conscience in order to go freely onin sin. Or, they take it as an impulse of their

273

better self, and dream that they train themselvesin virtuous living. This results in a good dealof social respectability and praise-worthy self-con-trol. But it bears no fruit for eternal life, inso-much as they claim the honor of it for themselves,and withdraw themselves from God, with whomthey refuse to reckon.

The operation of the conscience is altogetherdifferent with the redeemed. With them thefirst effect of the troubled conscience is, that theystart back; that they become angry with the sinwhich they have committed; that for all theworld they wish that they had never done it, andthat now they stand embarrassed and ashamedbefore God. This gives rise to prayer. Amidstthe cares and labors of the day they are awarethat God opposes their sin, but there is muchdiversion in general intercourse with people andin work, and so they easily get away from thesense of it. In distinction however from thepeople of the world, they still pray. And at theclose of day when before sleep they are about tobend their knees before God, they feel disturbed,they shrink from prayer, they are conscious that

something lies in between their heart and God,and they scarcely dare to appear before his face.

And then comes the moment of decision. If

they shrink back and omit to pray, the consciencetakes the soporific drink. And unless God inter-

venes, they are lost. Psalm 32 describes what fol-

lows: ''When I kept silence, my bones waxed oldthrough my roaring." But David did not faint.

He struggled on. However deeply ashamed hewas of himself, he bent his knees before God.

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Verse 5 of this same Psalm contains the record.

"I said I will confess m}^ trangressions unto theLord." And so: I acknowledged my sin untothee. . , . And thou forgavest the iniquity of mysin" When thus the soul holds on, and before Godon bended knee mourns sin, the blessing is sure tofollow. ''For this shall every one that is godlypraj^ unto thee in a time when thou mayest befound. Floods of great waters may come. Butthey shall not come nigh unto him."

And in this contrition of soul there is a recogni-tion of the holiness of God with an intensity suchas has never been experienced before. It is nolonger a holiness of God which was reasoned outand inferred from the given commandments;neither is it a holiness which loses itself in vagueadmiration of its own purity. It is the Holy Onewho in our conscience presses himself upon us,

and who upbraiding our sins by his holiness,makes us to test and to taste the same in thebitterness of our self-reproach and penitence. Theholiness of God then presents itself in the light

which of necessity is formed by the striking con-trast with the shadow of our sin. It reveals

itself as a power, which quick and quickening hasantagonized the death of our sin. In its absolutejudgment of a definite, concrete sin, it assumes adefinite, concrete form. And after it is understoodby us in this definite, concrete form, it lights upas an immeasurable realm of holiness, over-against the dark background of our sinful nature,

from which the particular sin sprang. This holi-

ness does not hover, as it were, over us. But it

cleaves unto us. And thus convicted of sin, and

under sentence of death, our soul comes into direct

contact, and immediate touch with the holy God.It brings us living and striking knowledge of him,with whom we have to do. The sin was terrible.

ButGod used it for this end: that through it

we should come to a better understanding of his

holiness.

52

"WHEN GOD SHALL JUDGE THESECRETS OF MEN."

They who conscientiously devote a portion of

their time to God, and try to know him, are few.

Prayer, church-attendance and good works canbe practiced without actual engagement with God.In many prayers the soul fails of appearing beforeGod, and of having God appear to the soul.

Many people go to church and come home again,

without having met the Lord, or having been metby him. Even though during sermon time themind was engaged with Divine things, by itself,

this was not being busy with God. And as to goodworks, it needs scarcely be said, that we can fill

up an entire day with them, without so much as

devoting one thought to him, who inspired us to

do them. 0, there is little, actual business donewith the Living God.

Thus far we only had in mind confessing, be-lieving Christians, who practice prayer, who live

for their church, and do good works. Think now of

the unchurched multitudes, who are not worldlyin any bad sense, but rather cultivate seriousness

of thought, who honor virtue and admire higher

276

ideals. And what do we find even with the noblestand best of them, of a being busy with God? Andof those who live only for business, and after thatfor pleasure, it must be confessed with shame,that there are no dealings with God at all. Addto this the people who are outspokenly wickedand godless in society at large, and others againwho are indifferent to all higher interests, and wesee, that the number of those who give but asmall part of their time to fellowship with God is

very, very small.

It must also be felt, if we may so express it,

that in his love for the world, all this must bevery painful to God. For God so loved the world,that he gave it his only-begotten Son. He impartedunto it susceptibility to know him, and to lovehim in return. Only a small part of this worldbears the Christian name. And in this small part,

that has been baptized, even there there are butvery few, who day by day turn their soul andmind to him, and enter into his secret commun-ion. All the rest pass by on the other side. Theyare filled with other things. And the knowledgeof his Name and Being is scorned by them.

But according to the Scripture, this is certain,

that soon or late the moment comes for everyone, in which God shall compel him, to deal ex-clusively, and with nothing else than, with him-self alone. He has appointed a day for this.

And for whatever man this day breaks, in it heshall have to appear before God, and God shallovertake him with his Majesty, and shall takesuch possesion of him, that he shall not be able

277

to think of anything save God. That day is

the day of judgment.In the representation of this day of judgment

art has done much harm. As art it could notdo otherwise than work with the representation.For this it borrowed its material and image froman earthly court of justice, with the millions andthe millions that have ever lived on earth as

defendants before God's holy tribunal. It couldnot do this otherwise, and this has been done in

a nmsterful way by more than one pencil or pen.It should not be forgotten however, that it is theoutward representation of what is chiefly of aspiritual significance. And the spiritual act in

judgment can not be pictured. So that wheninfidelity came in, which denies the judgment,it made use of the outward representation, bywhich to turn the matter itself into ridicule, andto show its impossibility. Where would there beroom for these millions and millions of peopleto stand? How much time would it take to giveench individual a hearing, even to the particulars

of every word and thought? It is said to be a

day, and for ever>^ family it would require morethan a year.

Our confession struck a truer note, when in viewof the spiritual nature of the judgment, it spokeof it as the opening of the books of conscience.

With this understanding of it, the judgment is

a review, in one clear v^ision, of the whole life;

an immediate sight of totals, where before weonly reckoned with the unpaid accounts of eachmoment. The judgment is a settling of accounts.

What wc owe God, and what is our due fo- deeds

done either good or evil, are recorded side by side.

This is the teaching of Scripture. For we must

all appear, "says the apostle," before the judg-

ment seat of Christ; that every one may receive

the things done in his body, according to that

he hath done, whether it be good or bad (2 Cor.

5:10). And every accountant knows what account-

ing here means, and what it implies, that in the

judment, God shall give us his • bill in toto,

accompanied with explanations, so that we shall

be convinced in the conscience that the account

is correct and just. We shall have the total re-

sult, the entire resumption of our life, from

childhood on, shown unto us with such certainty,

as to exclude every suggestion of doubt.

In our automatic counting-machines, the cipher

of whatever is put in, appears at once in sight.

The addition takes place of itself. This is the

image of our life. And he who throughout all

of life has refused to notice the cipher, that show-

ed itself each day, will in the judgment daysuddenly see the total amount, in which nothing

has been forgotten, and against which nothing

can be said. There will be an opportunity to

verify it, but this will do no good. A mistake

in this account is unthinkable. And with the

sudden clearing of the light of the conscience^

which will illumine all of life, there will nothing

rest, save the acknowledgement that God is just.

This is nothing to him, who believed and fell

asleep in Jesus. The end will reveal to himalso a terror-striking shortage, but on the opposite

side of the page will appear the atonement byChrist, which covers everything. His judge is his

27»

Savior. And liberated from the curse, he entersinto eternal blessedness.

But this opening of the book of the consciencewill be terrible for those who died without* Christ.

Conversion will then be too late. There can beno more hiding in Christ. Xo more* part can beobtained in the atonement. There is nothing of

good to balance the immeasureable guilt. Andthe sinner must faint under the weight of asentence, that is read to him in his own con-science. And this will be the eternal pain in his

inmost self, of the worm, that restlessly gnaws,without ever dying; and of the heat in his con-science of the fire, that shall never be extin-

guished. There is no need of any torture fromwithout, to be added imto this. The fire itself

within is the eternal punishment, and this innerconsumption of self will be as a cancer, that shall

eat into all his being, and corrupt his entire

existence. Even as cancer on the outside occas-

ions no pain, but that which eats into the vitals

within, so will the punishment begin from theconscience and go through all his existence.

This will be " the knowledge of God" on the

part of those, who here on earth, have not willed

to know the grace of God. This knowledge of

Divine grace is twofold. On one side, here onearth, through faith, it is a knowledge of Godthat saves. "This is eternal life that they mayknow Thee, the only true God." But on the

other side there is a knowledge of God, whichonly comes after death, in the judgment, butwhich for this very reason brings no eternal

life, but eternal death. In the earth it was

280

lightly asserted, that there was no God, or

that nothing of him was known, or that there wasno need to concern oneself about him. But after

death one stands before this disregarded God,feels the terror of his all-pervading presence, andis no longer able, try what he may, to escape

from him. For this is not the end of the judgment,

that immediately after it, life can be continued

in the old forgetfulness, as though there were noGod. No, the self-destroying impression received

of God, at the moment of the actual judgment,continues, and is never effaced again. It is

recorded of devils that they well know that Godis, and that they tremble. And all who in this

life have evaded God, will come in the judg-

ment, and after it, to the terrible discovery, that

they have been mistaken. They will see with

their own eyes, that God really exists and they

also will tremble.Behind the veil of vi.-ible thinjrs in this life,

and back of the niit-ts of our earthly limitations,

one can cover himself with the pretence that Godis not seen, and thus persuade himself that there

is no God because willfullv he does not see

him. B 't all this ends wi Ji death. Then this

veil wii: be rent from the top to the bottom,these mists will lift themselves, every pretencewill fall away, and the majesty of the Lord Godwill appear, and disclose itself in all its glory.

The knowledge of God, which w^as not desiredin life, will then come of itself, and deluge thelost. But it will be a repulsive knowledge, whichwill not draw them toward God, but will makethem recoil from before his terribleness. And

281

wherever they may look, there will be nothingbehind which to hide from the sight of themajesty of God. It then becomes the heat of asun which does not cherish, but sears. The Scrip-

ture calls it hell, and so it is, but only by whatGod through his sacred presence makes it. If Godcould be done away, or if one could withdraw him-self from the Eternal, or hide from before his Face,hell would be ended. But this is impossible.God's holy presence will not cease to deluge thelost, and that is eternal death. It is well withhim, therefore, who in this life has sought theknowledge of God in Christ. After death this

knowledge will be for him the drinking in of

Divine sympathy. But w^oe to him who shall

only learn to know God in the judgment. Forhim this knowledge will be nothing but horror.

53

"DYING HE WORSHIPPED."

In connection with the knowledge of what lies

beyond the grave the moment of dying is deeplysignificant. The way in which we see others die,

and in which we die ourselves, contributes to ourknowledge of God. In this hour many thingsthat stood between God and the soul fall away.We then stand on the threshold of the unseen life,

and the words of the Psalmist: "Our feet stand

within thy gates, O Jerusalem," are applicable to

the entering in through the gates of the newJerusalem.

Let us take dying in this connection in its real

true sense. Dying is an act. In our natural

282

birth we are passive. Life then only begins.

But when God has privileged us to reach the years

of maturity, and the end has come, the servants

and handmaidens of the Lord should not bedragged out by death against their will, but of

themselves they should face it with a will. And bythe way in which they do this, they should reveal

the fruit of their labors of faith. The first Chris-

tians sang hj-mns of praise as they carried outtheir dead. And St. Paul said: "For me to die is

gain, for to be with Christ is by far the best."^

Thus dying was the last struggle, but not of onewho defends his life against the waylayer. It wasmuch rather the struggle of the hero, who bravelywent ahead, in order jubilantly to come to God.Indeed, we may not court death. It is our

bounden duty to guard our life unto the end.Suicide is no dying, but self-destruction. Dyingis an exhibition of courage. Suicide is cowardiceIt is failure. It is lack of daring to continue thebattle of life. It is desertion from the ranks.

But though until the end, as long as there is

hope and chance, nothing must be left untriedto continue God's serv^ice on earth until he issues

forth the call,—when it comes, the smile of sacredjoy is more in place than the heaving of a sigh.

He who believes has always confessed that he doesnot belong here, but that his home is above.Dying must make this real. In dying the seal

must be put upon all our life of faith. Dying is

nothing to a child of God save the entrance intoan eternal life. And this it can not be, unless it

is an act. We must not be overtaken, lifted upand carried off. We must hear the call, and

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answer in reply: ''Behold, here I am, Lord,"and then bravely enter the valley of the shadowof death and go through it, knowing that theLord awaits our coming, and that by his hand heleads us through this darkness to the light.

Let it be said at once that such ideal dyingis rare. The woes and sorrows of death oftenrob dying of its ideal, exalted and sacred character.

A state of coma not infrequently prevents con-scious and willing dying as an act of the soul.

It even happens, alas, that a narcotic potion is

adminstered, whereby dying is degenerated into

a sleeping of oneself awa3^ As long however as

the person himself is irresponsible in this matter,

let not such an impossibility of dying manfully in

the faith on the part of a child of God be turnedinto reproach. In this matter also God is

sovereign. As a matter of fact, the Lord fre-

quently withholds heroic dying in the full con-

sciousness of faith.

Care however should be taken not to condonetoo much along this line. The Scripture alwaysavoids sentimentalism. It rarely pictures a death-

bed scene. In fact it only outlines the death of

Christ on Golgotha, and that of J;*<"ob. Of the

latter we are told that when he felt the end drawnear, he strengthened himself, and sat upon the

bed, and leaning upon the top of his staff, wor-

shipped, and blessed his sons (Heb. 11:21).

Jacob strengthened himself, that is to say, hedid not allow himself to be overcome by weaknessand regret, but struggled against it, took hold of

himself, and gathered together the last of his

284

waning strength, in order that in dying he mightglorify his God. He had no thought of caring

for himself, of being concerned about his ownspiritual estate, or about breathing forth his latest

breath. And when he blesses his sons, it is nofamily affair, but an holy prophesying that throughhis sons, as founders of the tribes of Israel, thekingdom of God should come and flourish, and theMessiah would arise. "Until Shiloh come!" this

was the zenith of his prophecy. He blessses his

sons, but in and through them his prophecy points

to the coming of the Kingdom of heaven. Hencethe Epistle to the Hebrews describes this as his

greatest act of faith. "By faith, Jacob when hewas djdng, blessed his sons and worshipped"(Heb. 11:21).

We do not deny that in dying, darkness canovertake the soul. Satan can be let loose to har-

rass our latest hour. But as a rule, we may say

that life is given us for the purpose of makingsure our faith, and that in dying the results of this

assurance must be shown to the glory of the Lord.

And therefore we should not allow ourselves in

dying passively to be overcome by weakness andgrief. In the article of death the will, the courageand the elasticity of faith must still struggle

against the weakness of the flesh. In this holymoment, the spirit, and not the flesh should con-

quer. Such was the case with Jacob. He strength-

ened himself in order to be able to die in agodly manner. Had he not done so, in all prob-

ability he too might have passed away in a semi-

conscious state. But this he did not do. His

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mighty spirit shook itself awake. In dying heglorified God. In doing this he left a shining ex-ample for every Christian to imitate.

There is a meeting with God in such dying,which enriches Divine knowledge, both in the onewho is about to depart and in those who watchat the bedside. It is generally reported, as a mostdesirable way of dying, that one quietly andpeaceably fell asleep. This almost always meansthat without giving any further signs of life, thepatient passed away in an unconscious state of

mind. This may very well be the case withunbelievers also. Of those who die without Christit is continually said, that they died equallyquietly and calmly; even perhaps with less per-turbation of mind, than many a child of Godthat is harrassed by anxiety and doubt. Nothingof a serious nature was said to them. They them-selves made no reference to anything. The phy-sician assured them that there was no need of

alarm. And so the patient passed quietly away,without having known any terror of death. Andothers, seeing this, were impressed that there is

really nothing to dying; it was all so quiet andgentle. Then came flowers to cover the bier.

Visits of condolence are no longer paid. In this

way nothing connected with death is spoken of.

And when the funeral is over, ordinary matters

form the topic of conversation, but not the things

that are eternal. And thus the mighty lesson of

dying is lost. Death ceases to be preacher of

deeper seriousness. And the Lord of life and of

death is not remembered.We, Christians, should not encourage this evil

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practice. And yet, we do it, when imitating theway of the world we say of such dead that they"peaceably passed away." Not calmly and peace-fully, but fighting and conquering in the Savior,should be the dying bed in the Christian family.He who has not the heart for this, but is careful

to spare the patient all serious and disquietingthought, is not merciful, but through unbeHef heis cruel.

In dying Jacob has worshipped. On the deathbed one can pray. One can pray for help in thelast struggle. Intercession can be made for thosethat are to be left behind, and for the Kingdomof God. By itself such prayer is beautiful. Onone's deathbed to appear before the face of God.This last prayer on earth, when every veil dropsaway, and the latest supplication is addressed toGod, who awaits us in the courts of everlasting

light. Such prayer teaches those, who stand by,to pray. Such prayer exerts an overwhelming,fascinating influence.

But Jacob did more. In dying he worshipped.In dying he felt impelled to offer unto God thesacrifice of Worship, and to render unto him praise

and thanksgiving and honor; to lose himself in

the greatness and majesty, in the grace and mercyof God ; and thus to offer him the fruit of the lips,

better than he had been able to do in life. Suchsolemn worship on the deathbed is the summaryof the worship which we have offered unto Godin life; except that now it is felt more deeply,

more intensely, immediately preceding themoment, in which among angels and saints above,we shall bring God the honor of his Name.

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All the knowledge of God that has been acquiredbefore concentrates itself in such deathbed wor-ship, and in that moment it is wonderfully illum-

ined, enriched and deepened. Now the dyingsaint knows God more clearly than he ever didbefore. He almost sees God face to face..

This worship also bears fruit in behalf of thosewho watch and minister at the bedside. At adeathbed, love is strongly aroused. The begin-

nings of mourning already struggle in the heart.

This makes it more receptive than ever, and the

impression which it receives at such a time is over-

whelming. Ordinarily it is taken for granted that

one believes. But frequently no indications of it

are seen. The contrary rather is suggested bynarrow-mindedness and sin. But when the

moment of dying has come, and children see it

of their father, a husband of his beloved wife,

that in this affecting hour the faith does not fail,

but is maintained; that at the gate of eternity

its language becomes more animated and forceful,

and it seems that one hears an utterance of the

soul after God, then the prayer of worship fromthe lips of the dying brings you as it were in the

very presence of God, and makes you feel that

he is nearer at hand than you ever knew before.

Much dying would be far different than it nowis, had life been different; if in dying, faith wouldwaken up more fully; and if God's child wouldunderstand that even in dying he has to fulfil a

duty, which he owes to God and to his fellowmen.

Then dying would be far more than now a preach-

ing of sacred reality, and the results of it wouldbe effective in life to the honor of God.

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54

"GIVE YOURSELF TO FASTINGAND PRAYER."

It is a contradiction in terms, that while mem-bers of the churches of the Reformation profess

to live according to the precepts of Holy Writ,

they do not fast. It is certainly a Scriptural rule

of life, not only in the Old, but also in the NewTestament. Christ himself fasted forty days andforty nights. St. Paul exhorts the children of God,that they give themselves not only to prayer butalso to fasting. What is possibly stronger still,

Christ has said, that there is a kind of evil spirits

that "goeth not out but by prayer and fasting"

(Matt. 17:21).

In the days of Jesus' ministry on earth the ques-

tion arose: "Why do the disciples of the Phari-

isees fast, but thy disciples fast not." Though it

may be inferred from this that in those days thedisciples did not observe the Jewish fasts, Jesus

settles the question by saying: "When the bride-

groom shall be taken away from them, then shall

they fast" (Mark 2:18-20). History shows that

from the beginning the Church of Christ has prac-

ticed fasting. We learn from Acts 13:2 that at

Antioch, where the followers of Jesus were first

called Christians, as they fasted and prayed, the

Holy Ghost gave them a revelation. It is well

known that in Roman, Greek and Nestorian com-munions fasting is observed. It is also known that

in Reformation times, days of prayer went handin hand with fasting. Is it not therefore in con-

l,radiction with the significance which Scripture

and history attach to fastings, that among us fast-

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ing is almost altogether abandoned. It is still ourhabit, as it was in the days of Hosea, to say:'•Our God, we Israel, know thee" (8:2). But whenScripture shows that the Knowledge of God is

greatly advanced by prayer, and prayer by fast-

ing, is there not something lacking, when we, whosay that we know God, do not fast?

The answer is given in Is. 58:6. In the days of

Isaiah there was much fasting observed in Judah,but by his prophet Jehovah declared that hewould not accept this kind of fasting. "Is it sucha fast that I have chosen; a day for a man toafflict his soul? to bow down his head as a bul-rush, and to spread sackcloth and ashes underhim? . . . "Is not this the fast that I havechosen? to loose the bands of wickedness, . . .

to deal thy bread to the hungry, . . . whenthou seest the naked, that thou cover him; andthat thou hide not thyself from thine own flesh?

Then shall thy Hght break forth as the morning,and thine health shall spring forth speedily."

This striking protest against dead formalismhas justly aroused among us a sense of aversion

to formal fasting. As a form, as a mere bodilyexercise, and as an exhibition before the world,

fasting does not sanctify. Indeed it can workprofanation. Hence Jesus' warning in the Sermonon the Mount: "But thou, when thou fastest,

be not as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance. . .

but anoint thine head, and wash thy face, that

thou appear not unto men to fast, but unto thyFather, which is in secret; and thy Father, whichseeth in secret, shall reward thee openly."

As strongly, however, as our blessed Lord de-

nounces formal, outward fasting, he commends290

fasting of the right sort, and declares that it hasits reward of grace with God. We are only safe

therefore, when on one hand we oppose deadformalism in fasting, and on the other hand bring

into practice the true fasting, which hsis beenappointed of God. And as we look back upon the

past, and look around us in the churches, we mustobserve that dead, formal fasting has assiduously

been abandoned, and that real, religious, andDiA'inely appointed fasting also has almost utterly

died out.

This leads to spiritual loss. We want eternal

life. "This is eternal life, that they might knowthee, the only true God." Nothing advances onein this knowledge of the only true God like

prayer. And prayer becomes more fervent andtender by fasting. Can we escape therefore the

fatal conclusion that by the disuse of fasting our

prayers become less fervent, and that we conse-

quently suffer loss in this ever ripening knowl-edge of God, which is eternal life?

If this applies to ourselves and to our families,

does it not equally apply to our churches? Andwhen every time again we observe in our

churches, that there are evil spirits at large, whichcan not be driven out except by fasting andprayer, is it too much to say, that the disuse of

fasting is one cause, among others, that these

spirits continue to harrass the life of the church?Should fasting, as a rule, on a given day of the

week be introduced again? By itself there wouldbe nothing against this. But it is to be feared

that before long it would end in formalism again.

Isaiah 58 and I Cor. 7:5 show that fasting, in the

spiritual sense, has a much broader basis than a

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temporary abstinence from food. It aims to put|

an end to the dominion of the body over the soul,

and to restore the soul's dominion over the body.You know yourself that everything that feeds andpleases the body has a tendency to repress theclearness and elasticity of the life of the soul.

The side of our life that is turned toward theworld rarely operates in harmony with the side of

our life that is turned toward God. When youare alone you feel as a rule closer to God thanwhen you are in company. In the banquetinghall ypu are farther away from God than in yourbedchamber. In the midst of the cares to in-

crease your wealth you enjoy less of God's pres-

ence 'ban at the times when you give of yourmoney to the poor. You are closer to God whenyou feed the hungry than when, with your familyor guests, you feast on choice foods and drinks.

In brief, experience confirms again and again, thatthe less enjoyment you take in the world, themore intimate is your thought of God. The moreyou get apart from the cares and the joys of theworld, the closer becomes your walk with God.Do not infer from this, that in order to know

God, you must withdraw entirely from the world.This is what the Stylists thought, the recluses

and contemplative monks. This is wrong, because"fasting and prayer" is indeed one of the meansby which to find God, but there are many othermeans to this same end, which only present them-selves in the midst of the busy life. We treated

these means in former meditations. We will comeback to them later on. But it must be a rule of

our life, not to leave untried a single means, bywhich to grow in knowledge of the only true God,

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and that therefore we have to serve God as muchin the midst of the world, and in the enjoymentof his blessings in our families and surroundings,as in our practice of "fasting and prayer." For it

can not be denied, that it is helpful and beneficial,

purposely, from time to time, to break away fromthe overwhelming dominion of the body and theworld, and thereby make ourselves more suscept-ible to the influences from above. To this endone will be more impressed with the need of fast-

ing and retirement at set times. Another will

only come to it in moments of anxiety and deep-ening seriousness. Let every one with respect tothis be sure in his own conscience. It may dependon temperament and circumstances. Let no onejudge his brother.

But the practice itself has a right of beingintroduced into the habits of life. Our first interest

is eternal life. This can only be tasted in an everdeeper knowledge of God. This in turn is fed bysecret prayer. And secret prayer has need, thatin the face of the offensive dominion of the bodyand the environments, the dominion of the soulbe strengthened by fasting rightly understood.That sobriety in food and drink is an aid in this

direction, appears from the difficulty to pray,which you find upon your return from a banquet-hall. But this is merely the beginning of real

fasting. It is not only abundance of food anddrink, but extravagance as well in ornaments andclothes, in diversions and satisfactions of thesenses, and in financial cares, voluntary or invol-untary, that harmfully affect your approach toGod. Fasting, therefore, as an aid to sanctify

prayer and to make it more fervent, is by no293

means alone the depriving of the body of foodand drink, but the withdrawal of self by generosityfrom the dominion of money, by sobriety and sim-plicity of life to liberate oneself from the powerof self-indulgence, and certainly also by seclusion

to escape the mastery of environment.

This is what the Lord declared, when he ex-

tended fasting to loosening the bands of wicked-ness, and to feeding the hungry. From time totime the soul must set itself free, cast away all

bands and become entirely itself. Then the gates

lift up their heads, then the door of eternity is

opened, and God makes his approach to us, andour soul its approach to God, and the knowledgeof God, which is eternal life, blossoms in thesanctuary of the heart.

55

''NO PRAYER COULD PASSTHROUGH."

When a child wants to ask his father for some-thing, he first seeks him, and only when he hasfound him, can he ask for what he wants. Tostate his request before his father is found is

folly on the part of the child. Is not this aninstruction in prayer?

He who as a child of God would pray to his

Father in heaven, and in faith ask somethingfrom him, must first make his approach to God.He must first seek the Divine Presence. Andonly when he has found the Lord, can he ask for

what he wants. This is little thought of in

prayer. We frequently observe that in our294

prayers, and in those of others, there is morespeaking in the air, than prayer and address to

the living God. Can it be denied that in extem-poraiy prayer before others, and even in pubHcworship, there is more argumentation and reason-ing, than real appeal to the most High, who is

clothed with Majesty.

Less can be said about secret prayer. Each manknows only his own prayer, and what others maytell him of theirs. But though we confine our-selves to this, the complaints uttered in a brother'sear about the barrenness of prayer, are such, as

to justify the fear, that the recital of words begins,

before the soul has consciously entered the pres-

ence of God. Frequent and long prayers encour-age this habit. The eyes close, the hands arefolded, and one begins certain known formalprayers, which though not irreverent, are out of

harmony with the very deep reverence which is

God's due.

The Scripture repeatedly shows that not everyprayer counts as such with God. It speaks of

moments in which our prayers are hindered. It

makes us hear the word of the Lord: "When yemake many prayers, I will not hear" (Is. 1:15);and it records the complaint of the prophet:"that no prayer passed through unto God" (Lam.3:44). Then heaven is as brass; there is no open-ing and no disclosing; there is no access and noentrance, and no spirit of prayer and supplication.

In Zion there was "an oracle of God's holiness."

When a godly Jew wandered in the mountains, or

dwelt by the Jordan, he turned himself in prayertoward this oracle (Ps. 28:2). When Israel was in

295

exile, they prayed with their faces toward Zion.As an after effect of this habit we still find inmany countries, that people do not pray at home,but in churches. Such churches are open all day,and in the solemn stillness of such stately edifices

one kneels down, unobserved and unknown, in theexpectation that in these impressive places thepresence of the Lord will make itself felt moreeffectively.

This is unquestionably a great privilege for

those who live in crowded cities. He who has aroom at home, where he can lock the door, in

order to be alone with God, has no need of it.

But the great masses of people are not so fortu-

nate. At home they are almost never alone, it is

almost never quiet, and seclusion which is so help-

ful to prayer, can almost never be found.Apart also from this difl&culty, it must not be

forgotten, that in Israel God himself had ap-pointed such an oracle of his holiness, and haddirected the souls of the faithful toward it. It

was a means of cultivating real prayer. It every-time reminded the godly Jew that in order topray he must first look to God with the eye of

the soul, and that before prayer, connection mustbe made between the soul and God. To praywithout first finding God, and knowing that onespeaks to him, is really a caricature of prayer. If

we would pray we should know, that at that verymoment God attends to the voice of our prayer;that he inclines his ear to our prayer; and that

he listens to the voice of our supplication. Andthis spiritual perception can not be awake in thesoul, unless, before prayer, we consciously place

ourselves in the Divine Presence.

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God's child always prays in Jesus' name. Hemust do this, because irreconciled and unredeemed,he would find no listening ear with God, But evenprayer in Jesus' name becomes a word withoutmeaning, when one does not first place himself

before the face of the Holy One, and feels that

of himself there is no approach to God, and that

he only appears before God in Christ.

In this connection the diflaculty is God's, omni-presence. The- very perception of faith that Godis not bound to either time or place, but that heis everywhere present^ accounts for the fact, that

one inclines to speak without first concentrating

his thoughts upon God, placing him before the

eyes, and seeking his presence until it is found.

In his Word God teaches us otherwise. Forthough the Scripture reveals to us in most glorious

terms the omnipresence of God, in behalf of

prayer it can only mean, that wherever we are,

we are always and everywhere able to find God.But it reveals with equal emphasis that in what-ever place we are, we have to do with the living

God, who besets us behind and before, who com-passes our path and our lying down, and who is

acquainted with all our ways (Ps. 139:5, 2). Inaddition to this it always points us upward. Wemust lift up our soul in prayer. Our prayerful

thoughts must direct themselves to the heavens,

where is a throne of grace, glorious with DivineMajesty. It is the palace above whither our

prayers ascend. It is the living, personal God whoinclines himself to us and toward Whom our pray-

ing soul must turn.

The imagination can lend no help in this, for

God is a Spirit, and they that worship him, must297

worship in spirit and in truth. But he who knowsGod as his Father who is in heaven, also knowsthat in prayer he has no deahngs with a forcethat extends and spreads itself everywhere, butwith his covenant God, his Lord and King, andthat he can not rest content until, in order to

pray, he has resumed his secret walk with Godand has obtained anew communion with his

Redeemer. Before the days of telegraph and tele-

phone this seemed far more mysterious than now.From experience we know that there is communionbetween people at immeasurable distances, whichis supported by nothing but a weak metal thread.And even this thread has been ignored. There is

now a telegraphic communication without thread,which in its vvondrous working has become a

beautiful image of praj^er. So-called telepathyalso comes to our aid. The authenticated facts

that persons at far distances can have fellowship

of soul with soul and communication of thoughts,is an indication, that our soul can have like fel-

lowship with God, because, when the human soul

is able to do this, the means of spiritual fellow-

ship are infinitely much greater with God.The point is that with respect to prayer we

must regard the indispensableness of this fellow-

ship, and that we must not pray, until we haveobtained this connection and fellowship with, andapproach to, God. When Jeremiah complainsthat his prayer did not pass through, because Godhad covered himself with a cloud, he shows that

he had sought this fellowship, and that he hadperceived his inability to obtain connection. Aswhen one stands before the telephone, and rings

up central, and gets no hearing because the wire

is broken, so he who prays stands at the gate of

heaven, and calls upon God for a hearing, andseeks connection of fellowship, but gets no sign of

life in return. This but shows, that real prayercan not begin until a hearing is obtained, andconnection has been established, and we knowthat God has disclosed his face to us. If this

fails, prayer is hindered. The fault lies with us,

either because of sin, or because our thoughtswander, or because we are engaged with worldlyconcerns, or because the heart is not rightly

attuned, or because of the superficiality and ex-

ternality^ of the condition of the soul.

This does not disturb the man who prays fromsheer habit. He prays anyhow, whether he hasany feeling or perception of connection or not,

and even though he is aware that his prayer doesnot pass through. He has said his prayers, andthat is the end of it. But the trul}^ godly manat prayer does not behave like this. If he feels

that there is an hindrance, if he is aware thatthere is a cloud between himself and God, heturns in upon himself, he humbles himself beforeGod and seeks cleansing in the blood of his

Savior. And then connection follows, the gates of

heaven swing open to him, and in the end his

prayer passes through and ascends before the face

of the Holy One.

This is the sanctifying power of the conscien-

tious practice of prayer. At first there is noprayer. But one does not rise from his kneesuntil prayer comes and access to the throne of

grace has been obtained. And in this very strug-

gle, sin is broken and grace in Christ is restored.

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56

"TO WHOMSOEVER THE SONWILL REVEAL HIM"

When we read in Romans 1 :20 that '"The invis-

ible things of him from the creation of the worldare clearly seen, being understood by the things-

that are made," and in Matthew 11:27 that "noone knoweth the Father, save the Son, and he to

whomsoever the Son will reveal him," thesetwo passages seemingly contradict each other, butnot in fact. Every man can know God in all sorts

of ways. This was not only so in Paradise, butstill continues so in this fallen world, even in

those parts that are under the curse of heathen-dom. The heavens declare the glory of God andthe firmament sheweth his handiwork, Dayunto day uttereth speech, and night unto nightsheweth knowledge. There is no speech norcountry, there is no people known, even untothe world's end, which does not . hear the voiceof the heavens. And not only does nature, whichpulsates with life, pour forth speech for everyone who does not purposel}'' stop his ear; butthere is a speech of God in the conscience,

that goes forth to every people and nation. It

is not recorded of the first created human pair in

Paradise, but of the heathen in the corruptedage of the Caesars that they "shew the work of

the Law written in their hearts, their consciencealso bearing witness, and their thoughts themeanwhile accusing or else excusing one another"(Rom. 2:15). The form in which the knowledgeof God and of his Will expresses itself, may beidolatrous and oftentimes offensive, but the ira-

300

pulse from which it proceeds, is never anythingelse, then the mistaken interpretation of thespeech of God in nature and in the conscience.

This is the seed of religion of which Calvin borewitness, the increated knowledge of God andthe given knowledge of God, which was everconfessed by our fathers. This was not confessedfor the sake of glorifying man, who fell, butcontrariwise, to render the sinner inexcusable be-fore God. Fallen humanity as such, and everyindividual sinner in the same, stands deeplyguilty before God, because he whose eye is fully

open, and whose conscience reacts properly, per-ceives the eternal power and Godhead of theLord Jehovah in himself, and everywhere aroundhim in nature and in history. Such being thecase, how are we to understand the words ofChrist, that no one knoweth the Father, save theSon, and he to whomsoever the Son will revealhim?

It does not say, that no one can have anyknowledge of God save through the Son, butthat no one knoweth the Father, except he towhom the Son has revealed him. Of Satan andhis angels it is clearly stated that they know Godand tremble. This could not be otherwise. Satan'sfall was nothing else than rebellion against God,evil lust to dethrone the Almighty and to puthimself in his place. And how could this havebeen thinkable, unless he had known the existenceand omnipotence of God? But every one under-stands at once that although Satan knows God,he has never known the Father. He who knowsthe Father is comforted and reconciled. Satan,on the contrary, whenever he thinks of God,

301

trembles. The knowledge of the Father makethrich, gives peace and eternal rest. The knowl-edge which Satan has of God makes him tremble.This is the difference between Satan and a greatsinner on earth. While the criminal can take asleeping draught to quiet his conscience and toforget God, Satan can not do this. This sleeping-

draught of sin is impossible for him. Hisperception of God's Almighty presence speaks tohim loudly from moment to moment, and there-

fore he trembles. From this the miserable estate

of the lost in the eternal fire is equally clear. Theungodly in the earth can put their conscience to

sleep and as a rule live free from anxiety in themidst of sin. There are those whose consciencesare so seared, that only now and then, in momentsof intense commotion, they feel the wrath of God.and for the rest of the time live on in their sin,

without any disturbing fear of God, just becausethey close their eyes and stop their ears. Butwhen once this life is ended, and they go into

eternity, this too will end. Then their eyes will

fully open, so that they will never be able toclose them again, and their ears v/ill be unstopped,so that they will never be able to stop themagain. And with open ej-e and ear eternally

to be subject to the omnipotence of God will betheir miserable destinJ^

If no one can know the Father save as theSon reveals him unto us, it is evident, that this

does not imply the general knowledge of God,which is within human reach everywhere, but theknowledge of God's everlasting compassion, whichthe sinner can not share, until reconciled in

Christ he has become a child of God, and has

302

learned to know God as his Father, and himself

as this heavenly Father's child.

There is no mention here of a doctrine, whichis committed to memory or of a revelation thathas been given in so many words, which weare to make our own, but of a knowledge whichspiritual experience of personal redemption andreconciliation imparts to us. This certainly im-plies a revelation to the understanding. ''We knowthat the Son of God is come, and hath given usan understanding, that we may know him thatis true" (I John 5:20). All revelation begins withthe Word. When the Christ appeared, he wentthrough the land preaching the gospel of theKingdom. The gospel itself is a glad tiding of

salvation which is to come, and of redemptionwhich is announced. But this preaching, this

glad evangel, these words of the gospel are notenough. These can be learned by rote. Thesecan be committed to memorj', but they cannot bring us the knowledge of the Father. Thisglad evangel by itself, even though we accept it

in its entirety, and without hesitation, neverbrings us further than to say ''Lord, Lord!" It

is with this as in the days of Hosea, (8:2) whenall the people said: "Lord, we thy Israel, knowthee." even while the anger of the Lord waskindled against them to the point of destruction,

just because they knew not God. Even if

therefore this doctrine, this message, this wordof the gospel was carried into the world first bythe apostles, and after that by preaching, and bythe Scripture, by itself it can not impart the knowl-edge of the Father. This knowledge only comes,when the glorified Christ through the Holy Spirit

303

imparts unto us the riches of his reconciliation,

when he seeks us out as sinners, and makes uschildren of God. Only when Christ has made uschildren of God, does the knowledge of the Fatherbecome our blessed and glorious possession.

But again, Christ does not come to us for thefirst time in the work of redemption. He is

the Eternal Word, which was before all thingswith God and was God. All nature, with therevelation of God which it contains is createdby him. He is the Word. No speech goes forth

from nature without him. Without the EternalWord nature would be dead and dumb, andwould have nothing to say to us. And not onlyhas nature been created by the Eternal Word,and endowed with a b.nguage of its own, but weourselves, in the midst of nature, would not havecome into this world, but for Christ. The wholescope of our human nature is from him. We toohave been created by him. Our whole spiritual dis-

position, and our capacity to overhear and under-stand nature, have been implanted in us by him.The same is true of our moral being. Christ hasgiven us our conscience. He is himself the con-science of mankind. The fellowship of our hearts

with the moral world order, our perceptions of

good and evil, of right and wrong, of what fills

one with horror and inspires one through beauty,of selfishness and love, of light and darkness

—

these have all come to us from the EternalWord.Hence it can not be said either that we know

God apart from Christ, or that only in and byChrist this known God is revealed to us as

our Father. For the broad foundation of the

304

knowledge of God, on wiiich the knowledgeof the Father is built, comes to us from theEternal Word. The knowledge of the Fatheris not a flower, that has been wafted downfrom the heavenly regions, and has been tied

by Christ to the withered stem of human nature

;

but the withered state of our sinful nature hasbeen revived by him with a new life, and theknowledge of the Father has been engrafted uponthe knowledge of God that comes to us throughnature, and through the conscience, by virtue

of our creation from the Eternal Word. Hencethese are not two kinds of knowledge, withoutan inner relation, standing externally side byside and joined together. But it is one knowledgeof God, which comes to us fiom the EternalWord, which arises in us through the instrument-ality of nature and of the conscience, andwhich in and through the redemptive workof the Messiah is elevated and carried up tothe knowledge of the Father.

It is a detriment to the faith, therefore, whichavenges itself bitterly, when he who is convertedrests content with the work of redemption, as

though it comprises the sole glory of Christ, andabandons the knowledge of God from nature andthe conscience to the world. He who, reconciledin Christ, kneels as God's child before his

Heavenly Father, must let the light that hasappeared to him in Christ, operate reflexively

upon the revelation of God in nature and uponthe revelation of God in human nature, bothof which have their origin in Christ. St. Johnbegins his Gospel by pointing out the relationwhich Christ sustains to the creation of the world,

305

to the creation of our own nature, and to thecreation of our own person. And this is the result.

Thanks to our reconciliation in Christ the voice ofGod in nature and the voice of God in our con-science obtain a different sound. They increase in

clearness and in significance. And by the openedear they are heard with a clarity which blends thelife of grace with the life of nature in glorious

harmony and turns the whole world, and all

history including our own lives, into one Mightyrevelation of the Father, whom we worship in theface of his Son.

57

'1 AM CONTINUALLYWITH THEE."

We may sit for hours by the side of a personand hold no fellowship with him. In long railwayjourneys we may spend several days in the com-pany of others, and not so much as learn their

names, or know anything about them. On theother hand we may be miles apart from a friend,

and be continually engaged with him, so thatwe scarcely think of anything but of him, andin spirit enjoy closest fellowship with his spirit.

It may sound strangely, but such is the fact.

A mother who has lost her darling child was neverso closely united in soul with the soul of her child

as during the first hours after death, when the

little one went far away from her.

Fellowship of soul with soul may be greatly

aided by personal presence, facial expression andmutual exchange of thoughts, but is not dependentupon them. In close fellowship of soul with soul

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we crave personal presence. Human nature consists

of soul and body, and is only fully satisfied whenfellowship of soul with soul is accompanied byphysical presence. In the realm of glory, commun-ion with God's saints will only be made perfect

by the sight of one another in the glorified body.Fellowship among the redeemed in the Father-house above, bears a provisional character until

the resurrection, and awaits perfection in thereturn of Jesus. But however deeply significant

personal presence and sight may be, presence of

soul with soul does not depend on it. As Godcreated us we are able, though separated in the

body, to have close fellowship one with the other,

either by writing, telephone or telegraphy, andalso apart from all this, in a purely spiritual

way in feeling, perceptions, thoughts and imagina-tion. Personal presence alone does not afford

human fellowship; for this is always fellowship

of spirit w^th spirit, of soul with soul, of heart,

with heart. And the question whether we live nearby a person or far away from him is not answeredby distance or proximity but only and alone byspiritual nearness or estrangement. When parting

from a loved one for a long term of years, evenalso at the last farewell before djang, we can assure

him: "I shall continually be with yon." And manya mother with reference to her child, and many a

widow with reference to her late husband, haveliterally fulfilled it. The child, the husband weregone from the earth, but fellowship continued,

unseen, awaiting the re-union.

When Asaph sings in Ps. 73:23 ''Nevertheless

I am contimiallly with Thee" it can only be taken

in the sense of this spiritual fellowship. Locally

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we are never separated from God. We can Qotbe anywhere and God not be near. He besetsus behind and before. Whither shall we go fromhis Spirit, whither shall we flee from his presence.We can not escape the presence of God. "If Imake my bed in hell," sings David, Ps. 139. ''be-

hold Thou art there. If I take the wings of themorning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of thesea, even there shall Thy hand lead me, andThy right hand shall hold me," God is neveraway from us. He can not be away from us, neithercan we be away from Him. He is the Omni-present One. And his almighty power is operativeevery moment in every pulse-beat of the blood,in every quiver of the nerves, and in every breathwe draw.But this Divine Omnipresence does not con-

situte fellowship of our spirit with the Spirit ofGod. Two things are necessary for this. First

that God makes his approach to our spirit andreveals to us the tokens of his holy presence with-in; and again, that our spirit opens itself to theSpirit of God, allows him to come in, goes outtoward him, and in seeking him will not rest

until it finds him. The approach of the Spiiit

of God to our spirit may impart a mere superficial

impression, and no more. In this sense there is

scarely anyone who at sometime or otherin his life has not been aware of a certain impulsefrom God in the soul. This has been perceivedin the midst of sin. It is different, however, whenthe Lord God discloses himself to us, makes him-self known, taking up his abode in the soul, andannouces himself as the secret friend of the heart.Then alone the secret walk with God becomes

possible, and He is sovereign to grant liis

fellowship to the soul or to withhold it. Lethim who received it, therefore, take thought,that thereby he was granted a privilege

above all other privileges, a royal, heavenly andDivine grace of highest worth. And that we takethis blessedness at this high worth will be evidentfrom the fact, whether we in turn unlock ourheart to the Eternal, and, not once in a while, butcontinuously, seek to enjoy this inward, secret

fellowship with God.In the song of Asaph in hand the word "con-

tinually" must be taken in its literal sense; notfrom time to time; not once in a while; but con-tinuously all the time without ceasing. He hadenjoyed the blessedness of fellowship with God,but at intervals, from time to time. For a whilehe lived ''near unto God," and for a while hewas away from God, and thereby his soul haderred. He felt that he had wandered off, andthat he had been at the point of becomingunfaithful to God's children. From this mael-strom he only found deliverance when he returnedto the sanctuary of God and opened his soul

again to Divin© fellowship. This bitter experi-

ence of soul led him to change his course. Notas had been his habit, to seek fellowship withGod in the midst of all sorts of distractions, andthen to wander away again from him, but fromnow on, continually, all the time, without resting

and without ceasing to be with God. (Dutchversion: "I will then continually be with Thee").Not from now on to be absorbed in holy medita-tion in order through the imagination, representa-tion and deep mysticism to lose himself in fellow-

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ship with the Divine Being. For though, providedit is applied with utmost care, such losing of one-self in spiritual vision of the Infinite, as result of

private prayer, can have a value of its own. It

is not what continually being ''near unto God"implies. It can not mean this because in

holy, mj'stical meditation the other operationsof our spirit are an-ested, with this result,

that we stand helpless in the face of ourwork in the world, so that nothing can come of

doing God's will, while on the contrary, close

fellowship with God must become actual in thefull and vigorous revelation of our life. It mustpermeate and give color to our feeling, perceptions,sensations, thoughts, imagination, purposes, acts

and words. It must not stand as a foreign factorby the side of our life, but be the glow thatcasts it sheen upon our whole existence. Thiscan not be so with fellowship of man with man,but only with the fellowship with God, becausein and from and to God are the issues of all holyand of all creaturely utterances of life.

Asaph did not aim therefore at inactivemeditation, but at a fundamental tone, a fund-amental temper of mind and heart, which con-tinually lifts itself in praise and direct-s itself in

prayer, to God. An ejaculatory prayer is notenough. It proceeds only occasionally fromthe soul. While the requirement is, that at all

times our expectation in everything be fromGod, and that our thanks are continually his

due; to let God inspire us and so to deal withour faithful Father that it would at no timeaffect us strangely if He were to appear to us.

Even as we have our self ever with us, and bring

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it into every interest of life, so we should allow

the thought of God, the lifting up of the soul to

God, the faith on, and the love for, God uncea-

singly to operate in and with everything. . . This

prevents estrangement, and straying away, and

accustoms the soul to be continually "near unto

God." This is shown most forcibly by the fact

that he who so lives is at once aware of an

aching void within, the moment he wanders away

from God, which allows him no rest till fellow-

ship with God is restored.

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"I HIDE ME WITH THEE."

The hen allows her chickens to run about freely

within her sight until danger threatens, and then

at once with raised wings, she clucks her brood

towards herself, and does not rest until the last

little one has crowded itself beneath her wings,

and animal-mother faithfulness covers all the

young innocents. But then the chickens do not

hide themselves yet with the mother hen. Theyonly do this when, seeing the approach of danger,

of themselves, and of their own initiative, they

flee to the mother hen in order to seek protection

beneath her wings., , t j

The "Jerusalem, Jerusalem," which Jesus de-

claimed against Zion was doubly upbraiding in

its touching pathos, because it reproached Israel

either for not surmising danger, or in case it did,

for seeking defense and cover with men and not

with God. In time of danger the people should

have called upon God, and should have poured

cut their supplication for help and deliverance

unto the God of their fathers, and as soon as

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the waters in the flood of destruction that cameupon the people began to rise, without waitingfor an answer to their cry, they should havesought refuge with God. The people did not dothis. They trusted in their own strength andunderestimated the danger. And then insteadof the people calling upon God, God called uponthe people, saying "O Israel, flee unto Me, andlet Me be your shield." In this way God called,

not once but "many times." And Israel heardthat calling and clucking of its God, but hardenedthe heart, and would not. And then the abandon-ment became a judgment: "How often wouldI have gathered thee, as a hen doth gather herbrood under her wings, and ye would not ; behold,your house is left unto you desolate." And at

this judgment Israel did not weep with shame,and self-reproach, but planted the cross of

Golgotha; and he who wept over his people,was the Lord.

We are here confronted with all sorts of spirit-

ual conditions. One will be in danger, but as it

threatens he neither knows God, nor is knownof him. Yet in the face of shipwreck he will cry

:

"O God, help me," though his voice is lost in thestorm. While another in the face of dangerwill brave it without a thought of God. Still

another in time of stress will hear the warningcall of God, but will not heed it. But therewill also be those who, in the hour of grave need,of themselves will flee to God, will call upon himand hear his call, and who, before the soul is

delivered, find themselves safely hidden withtheir God, shadowed by his wings and covered byhis faithfulness. And these are they from whose

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soul in truth the call of confidence goes forth:

"I hide me Loid. with thee." (Ps. 143:9 marg.reading).Hiding with God is not dwelling in his tent,

or knowing the secret grace of the hidden walk.Hiding never indicates a fixed condition, butalways something transient. We seek shelterfrom a thunderstorm, in order presently, whenthe sun shines again, to step out from our hiding-place, and continue on our way. Little chickenshide with the mother hen, when a water-rat is

around; but when it is gone, they run out again.And the soul of him who knows God, hides withhis Father, as long as trouble lasts ; but when it is

overpassed, there is no more need of hiding.Hiding in God is not the ordinary, but the ex-traordinary condition of a single moment "Untilthese calamities be overpast" (Ps. 57:1), or assaid in Is. 26:20, "Until the indignation be over-past"But even he who fears God, does not hide with

him in everytime of need. Trouble and care areupon us all the days of our life. The cross mustbe taken up each day anew. But as a rule thechild of God calmly pursues his way in the assuredconfidence of Divine protection. He knows thatGod fights for him, that God is his shadow, thatas his good shepherd he leads him, and thatwhen too violent an assult threatens, God covershim with his shield. He then dwells with God,and God does not leave him to himself. Allthis is the daily, ordinary activity of faith, theoperation of God's faithfulness, and of the trustof his child.

But hiding it still something else. It is something

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connected with the hour of teiTor;when the waterhas risen to the hps, when dark dread hassuddenly overtaken the soul, when there is

no way of escape, when dark night settles onthe heart, when faith no longer trusts itself.

Then there is an heroic taking hold of self, andas in the moment of danger the child runs tomother, and hides himself in her dress, so doesthe soul fly to God, crowds close up to him andhides with him. And in doing this the soul hasno thought of anything, nor time for makingplans, save only and alone to hide with God, tobe safe with him, to find deliverance with him.

If despair of faith were possible, hiding mightbe said to be the act of despair. But though therenever is despair in faith, in great anxiety of mindthe child of God may despair of himself, of

help and deliverance from without, of the workingof the ordinary powers and gifts which at othertimes are at command, and now gives up everyfurther attempt to resist because he feels thatthe fight is too unequal, that the opposing force

is too strong and overwhelming, that he cannot stand before it, and dares not run any morefutile risks, and therefore throws pike and shield

aside, and helplessly takes refuge with God withthe cry: "O God, fight thou for me," and nowhides with God. After the chickens have crept

under the wings of the mother hen, the hawkthat was after the chickens no longer sees them,but only the angry mother hen. When the child

takes refuge with mother, and hides itself in

her dress, the assailant has no longer to do withan helpless child, but with the mother who, like

a lioness, fights for it. And when a child of God814

hides with God the battle is no longer one betweenhim and the world, but between the world andGod. He who hides with God commits his cause

to God. He withdraws himself from it. All his

support and hope is the righteousness of his

Lord. And only when this has openly beenshown, he comes out from his hiding again in

order to finish his course.

Hiding with God therefore is no ordinary act

of the soul. It onl}- takes place amid circumstances

of utmost need and danger. Only when David'sspirit was overhelmed within him, and he wasforced to exclaim: ''My heart within me is

desolate" (143:4), so that he lay "in darknessas those that have long been dead," was thecry for help forced from his heart, wherebyhe struck the key-note and found the word,which only in momenj:s of like stress the soldiers

of the cross have echoed and re-echoed fromtheir own over-burdened spirit.

There is also a hiding with God in momentsof anxiety and need, which are occasioned byordinary' events in life. For though as a rule be-lievers are not called upon, like David, to fight

the battle of the Lord, something of that battle

annouces itself in every famih^ life, and in everyindividual career. The instances in worldly lives

of great perturbation of mind, which lead todespair and suicide, are almost without number.And it is noteworth}'- that what brings the wordly-minded through despair to suicide, drives thebeliever to hide himself with God. The man of

the world and the child of God both give up.

But while the worldly man seeks surcease in

self-destruction, just to get away from his troub-

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les, the hope of eternal life dawns on the soulof the believer, and he also seeks to do away-with self, but bj^ expecting nothing more fromhis own strength and powers, and by resigningeverything into the hand of God. Even as hewho is incurably ill, suffers dreadfully, is nomore able to endure it, and expects no morehelp from medicine, yet holds out unto death,because he can hide with God. So there canbe despair in the family on account of consuminggrief, bitter, sin, endless adversities, and lack of

bread. There can also be a grievance thoughscorn and slander, so deep and cruel, that restora-

tion of honor is no more possible, and life be-comes a burden. The cause of God may beinvolved in all this, but as a rule it is not, andall this dreadful darkness looms up from com-mon life. But though the. battle for God mayhave nothing to do with this, it is bound tohave a part in this, because these grievous troublesmake their wave-beats shake the faith in theheart of God's child. And then it can not helpbut become a battle of faith. A combat betweenthe power of the world and that which revealsthe faith. Fear would strike faith dumb, butfaith will cry out for help against it.

And in all such cases faith first struggles

against it, then tries to conjure the storm, thenbattles as long as it can. But when finally it

is utterly disabled, and feels itself at the pointof defeat, it performs the last heroic act whichmakes it triumph: it lets go, it gives up, in

order to commit its all unto the Lord, and thenthe tempest-tossed and uncomforted soul hides

with God, and God binds up his sorrow.

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69

"THOU DOST NOT HEAR ME."

True prayer calls for an answer from God.But not all prayer is genuine. There is a great

difference between formal prayer of the lips andearnest outpouring of soul in supplication. Form-al prayer however should not be underestimated.

It implies a power that maintains prayer. Andthough it tarries, a spark from above may sud-

denly come down into this dead formalism andignite the flame of true prayer in it. But thoughit is unfair to say that he who prays in this mere,formal way, had better not pray at all, it re-

mains true that cold and heartless prayer is in-

fected prayer, in behalf of which the man of

ardent prayer invokes the cleansing power of theatonement.

If we would examine the true character of

prayer, we must distinguish it from the form, anddirect the attention to real supplication of thesoul; and then he who prays, awaits an answer;such as in olden times was given in a revelation, in

a word spoken in the soul, in a vision, or appear-ance of an angel; and in our times in the hearing

of our prayer, in an unexpected meeting, or in

a motion worked by the Holy Ghost within.

He who prays in a godly manner always awaitsan answer; not only when he asks for something,but also when he worships, ascribes praise, or

gives thanks. In these holy exercises he does notmerely aim at reciting words in honor of God'sname and majesty but he asks God, whom heworships, to accept his praises and thanksgivings.

The scripture speaks of them as offerings, and

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calls them: "the calves of the lips" (Hosea 14:2),or "the fruit of the lips" (Is.57:19) by whichto indicate clearly the significance of an offering

which such prayer implies. From the accountof the first fratricide we learn that there is anoffering which God accepts and one which herejects. And nowhere has it been more clearly

shown than in Cain's anger and wrath, that withever}' offering the human heart awaits an answerfrom God.But it does not always come. And amid the

sorrows of heart and the distresses of soul nothingis more grievous than this lack of an answerfrom the Lord. Hear the complaint of Job(30:20): "I cry unto thee, and thou dost nothear me; I stand up, and thou regardest me not."

This is expressed still more strongly in Ps. 22,

where the Messiah exclaims: "My God, my God,why hast thou forsaken me! my God, I cry in

the daytime, but thou hearest not; and in thenight season also I take no rest." Or as

it reads in Micah 3:7 "Then shall the seers beashamed . . . for there is no answer of God".The failure of obtaining an answer from God

is by no means always the fault of the worshipper.With the Messiah at least this is unthinkable.Every one knows from experience that at onetime he was heard in spite of an accusing con-science, and that at another time, when his prayerhad been earnest and sincere, no answer came.In many instances, the hearing failed, becauseprayer was a sin in our lips. Withholding of

an answer, on the part of God, can frequentlybe explained from the sinful mood of the heartduring prayer. But sin on the part of a worshipper

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is not the only cause of the failure to obtain anhearing of prayer. The most devout saints in

Israel complained again and again that their prayerwas not heard, which was a source of deep grief

to their hearts; and their grief was proof thattheir prayers had been earnest and sincere. TheLama Sabachthani from the cross shows the heightwhich this sorrow of the human heart can climb,and Golgotha makes it plain, more strongly thananything else, that the withholding of an answer,on the part of God, can be intentional.

The question in dispute on Carmel was ananswer from above. Both Elijah and the priests

of Baal acknowledged that if God is alive, andman prays to Him, a sign of life must proceedfrom the side of God, as an answer to prayer.The priests sought this answer with Baal, andElijah sought it with Jehovah. From morningeven until noon the cry arose from a thousandmouths; "O Baal, answer us," and they cutthemselves with knives and lancets, because noanswer came. Then Elijah also prayed and Godanswered by fire. The question at stake was,whether the God who was invoked was able toanswer. A God who is not, and who is not alive,

can not answer. Jehovah, who is alive in glorycould answer, and the fearful answer descendedin fire from heaven.But ability to answer is not enough. God must

fJso be willing to answer; and the Sabachthaniis the most striking instance of the awful truth,

that at times God is intentionally unwilling, andthat he does not withhold his answer by chanceor by mistake, but in accordance with his counseland plan. Even when his child continues to

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call he refuses to hear; even when the saintliest

worshipper pours out his soul before him;even when his own well-beloved Son cries

unto Him from the cross. This is the comfortof the cry from the cross for every soul that cries

and gets no answer. Otherwise the silence of

Grod might bring the soul to despair. But whenit appears that even the prayer of God's ownSon remained unanswered, why should a sinful

suppliant complain or despair, when he, too, is

numbered with the Son of God.Is this non-compliance on the part of God

mere arbitrariness? Far from it. Such an idea

is unthinkable in God. Even this Divine with-holding of an answer to our prayer is outflow of

the love-life wherewith God compasses the soul

of his child. In our prayer-life there is dangerthat we seek a gift from God rather than God him-self. Prayer is almost always invocation of God'shelp, of his assistance; of his saving and blessing

grace; but apart from ourselves, our own interests

and conditions of need, prayer seldom aims first

of all to have dealings with God himself. The''Our Father" teaches the way. It instructs us first

to pray for the hallowing of God's name, for thecoming of his Kingdom, for the doing of his Will,

and then it goes on to the prayer for our daily

bread, for forgiveness of our sins and for ourdeliverance from the Evil. But this is the miseryof our spiritual estate, that even in prayer werarely stand on the sacred height of the "OurFather".This wounds the tender love-life between God

and the soul. Prayer for provision in personal

need is natural, but it always springs from love

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of self. God must lend help and assistance anddeliverance. And so it comes to appear at timesthat God is and exists merely for our sakes, for

our benefit, to deliver us from trouble. But love

is different. Love for God in prayer is, thatfirst of all we are concerned with the things thatglorify God's name, God's honor and G;od's power.If it be true that love alone maketh rich and ex-

alteth the soul, it is grace, and nothing but seekinggrace, when by temporary withholdings of answersto our prayers God initiates us more fully into

the life of love, represses egoism in our prayers,

and in our prayer-life also quickens love.

Hence when an answer to prayer tarries, let

not the soul grow faint. Apart from the fact that

an answer is not immediately necessary, and that

it is frequently shown later on that in his own timeGod granted the request, there is no reason why,when God withholds an answer, we need to des-pair. When saints in Old- and New-Testamenttimes were tried along this line, and our blessed

Savior endured it in the dark hour of death uponthe cross, why then should we be spared? Thevery restraint on the part of God, when the soul

cries out to him, may be the token, that he lovesthe soul more than we ourselves; that he wantsto raise the life of the soul and the life of prayerto higher vantage grounds; that he desires toinitiate us into the deeper ways of love; andthat by not answering our prayer he preparesus for a more glorious future, when we shall praymore sincerely, supplicate more earnestly, andreceive a far more abundant answer. Evenamong us it is frequently seen that a temporalwithdrawal from those whom we love is the

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means to quicken tenderer love. How much themore is this true of him, who himself is loveand who by putting a cloud between us and hisMajesty, leads us up to the higher and far

richer enjoyments of love.

60

"HIS WAYS ARE EVERLASTING"With the passing of anipther year another

boundary-line in life is drawn. A new year is

brought into the course of time. It was 1903,

and so it continued for months and weeks anddays. It became 1904, and involuntarily we askwhat it shall bring us. Whether the year will

outlive us or whether we shall outlive it. Thisof itself on the threshold of the new yearmakes us to look up to our Father who is in

heaven, and ask little but trust much, to lay thehand on the mouth and as a weaned child quielty

to wait what He will bring upon us, and uponour beloveds.The goings of the age are his, declares the

prophet (Hab. 3:6 Dutch Version.) God countsand reckons with centuries, as on the dial of

the clock it is done with hours and minutes.

We are the little, needy ones who count withthe tenth part of a penny. God bathes him-self as it were in the great eternities. There is

no comparison between our and God's reckoningof time. With God it is the ever-flowing fountainof the eternal; with us the dripping of the mom-ents is heard in the ticking of the clock. Whilewaiting for it, five single minutes seem some-times unbearably long.

This vast difference between us and God should

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never be lost from sight. It is so wide thatwe can not possibly explain the connection be-tween our time and God's eternity, though weknow that there must be such a relation, andthat there is. When we die in Christ weshall enter upon an eternity of everlasting joys,

but even this shall never be to us the eternity

of God. Though we shall live eternally, wehave had a beginning, but God never. "Beforethe mountains were brought forth, (Ps. 90) fromeverlasting to everlasting thou art God." Andthis never applies to man. But, however incal-

culably vast the difference may be, between uswho live by hours, and God who disposes of thegoings of the ages, it is grace, that God dividesfor us the portion of life, which we spend betweenthe cradle and the grave, into parts of years anddays, and that he subdivides these parts into

hours and minutes whereby our otherwise short

life obtains breadth, extension of duration andrichness of scope, which makes us bathe ourselves

in the little pond of our brief years as in an ocean.We did not invent time, and its division into

j''ears and days; these are ours by God's appoint-ment. "And the evening and the morning werethe first da3''," is the creative word that appointedthis order and division of time for us, beforeman had appeared on earth. Sun and moon, therotation of the earth, and the pulsebeat of theblood in our veins, have been made with theview of solving human life into minutes andseconds. And by this wondrous means, wonder-ful in simplicity of appointment. Divine graceand mercy have created for us, and about us, awealth of life in the past, now in the present,

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and presently in the future, whereby our shortlife appears to be almost endlessly long and great.

Even the single year that is past seemed so long,that only a few of its significant days are clearly

remembered, and the new j^ear just begun makesan impression as though it could never end.Our God moreover, whose are the goings of

the age. has not only beautifully divided humanlife, and thereby mightily enlarged it to ouridea, but he also pervades it continually withhis faithfulness and Fatherly care. From week toweek, and from day to day his mercy and love areover us, new every morning and scintillating withnew brightness every evening. From hour to hourhe goeth before us on the way. In the subdivisionsof the hours into minutes and seconds the puke-beat of the blood in the heart is his work, andhe notices every desire of the heart, that goethout after him. He is the Father of the everlasting

ages, who from sheer grace divides, for the sakeof enrichment, the life of his child even into small-est parts, and pervades each division and subdivi-sion with his grace to keep us and to protect us.

If God has so divided our life and entered it

with his grace, we should reach out from this time-divided life after the goings of the age, andelevate ourselves to the levels of the eternal. InRevelation 10:6 we read that the angel who stoodupon the sea and upon the earth lifted up his

hand to heaven, and sware by Him that liveth

for ever and ever .... that there should be timeno longer. Time is a form of existence given usby grace, but it is unreal; eternity alone is real,

Our destiny lies in eternity and only from theviewpoint of eternity can human existence, life

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and destiny be understood. Whatever the yearof life may be, it is never understood from itself.

Before God, all of human life, with all its years,

forms one plan, one end, one whole. This plan,

of our life did not begin at birth but traces its

lines back to the life of parents and grandparents.In the forward direction this plan does not endwith death, but extends across death and graveinto the ages of eternity. It may even be said thatalthough we might live 70 or 80 years, this partof life, lived on the earth shrinks into almost noth-ing by the side of the tens of thousands of yearsthat await us in eternity. All of earthly life is

nothing but riding down the line to the first

station, where the real journey through the table-

lands of eternity begins.

Not to see this plainly and clearly, is themain cause of discouragement which frequentlyovertakes people in their passage through this

brief, earthly life. For a year of life can neverbe understood by itself, and must be viewed in

connection with life in the hereafter, because it

is so and not otherwise before God, and can notbe explained in any other way. He who mouldsand forms and prepares us for eternity is theLord. In his works upon the heart, in his formingof the person, as well as in his preparing of thespirit \\'ithin us for eternity, the goings of theage are also his. The standard here is notwhat would give us pleasure and love for a mo-ment; but what governs his appointments of ourlife is what we are to become in the course ofcenturies. On this long way he leads us nowthrough dark and deep places, and again throughsunshine on the mountains of his holiness, but

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his plan and appointment always accompanies us.

And not what would smile on us this year, butwhat 77iust happen with us, for the accomplish-ment of his plan regarding us, determines whatthe 3'ear will bring. And why it must be so andnot otherwise we can not understand now, butwe will in the hereafter. He who forgets this

has no peace. He who with all his soul entersinto the eternal activitj^ of God, rests, whatevercomes, in the Father's faithfulness.

If within the narrow confines of time we reckonby the day and the week, and the heart turnsbitter everj^ time things go wrong and bringnothing but disappointment, we become the preyof uneasiness and gloom. Then complaint becomesunceasing, and the habit of seeing all things blackoverwhelms us. Then there is no heroism of

faith, no inspiration to face destiny and nojoy in God. Thousands and thousands spend all

their daj's in cold indifference or in hopeless en-

deavor. They are but a play-ball before thewind of the day and sink far below the dignity of

man. Does not the prophet say, Eccles. 3:11 thatGod hath set eternity in the heart? This butmeans that God has given us power from amidthe whirling time-flakes all around us to lift

ourselves up to the sure levels of the eternal.

With eternity set in the heart let every child

of God bravely face the newly-opening year.

He knows that the God whom he worships ownsthe goings of the age, and therefore disposes andappoints human life purel}^ in accordance withthe claims of eternity. He prays that he mayhave peace and jo3% for the heart craves happiness.

But if the year must bring him periods when

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God puts him into the smelting-furnace, or addsfiner cuttings to the diamond of the soul, thoughhis eyes may ghsten with tears, he will nobly bearup in the strength of faith; for he knows it is

necessary for his good; that it can not be other-wise; and that if it were otherwise, his life wouldforever be a failure. It is hard to undergo a painfuloperation, but the patient willingly submits, andpays large sums of money to the operator, becausehe knows this drastic treatment alone could savehim. This states the case of God's child beforehis Father who is in heaven. Not he, but Godalone must know, what is indispensable and necess-ary for him this year, and what in view of his

permanent formation it must bring him. Andin case it appears that this year such a Divineoperation is necessary for him, he will not murmur,neither will he complain, but he will submit him-self willingly to God, yea, though the waves of

sorrow should rise ever so high, he will rejoice in

God, knowing that everything God doeth, mustneeds be done, for the sake of God's honor andhis own highest good.

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"PRAISE HIM WITH STRINGED INSTRU-MENTS AND ORGANS."

The Scripture is most urgent in pressing

and driving the soul to God. It enjoins thesupreme command of sobriety and purity. It

urges us not to walk proudly but humbly. It

is no less inexorable in its warnings that weguard ourselves in ever}' way against the killing

power of money, and that we sanctify our wealth

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by large charities. But nothing of all this cancompare with the unsparing compulsion withwhich the H0I3' Ghost in God's word relentlessly

drives us to worship, to seek Divine fellowship,

to have the soul appear before God.The Scripture places itself at a standpoint that

is even more exalted than this. According toits claim it is not enough that believers makegreat the name of Him, whose property is majestyand power in the most absolute sense. All menmust glorify God. Even this does not drawthe circle by far of what must praise the nameof the Lord. Together with man the Scriptureincludes in this circle all heavenly hosts. "Praisethe Lord, all ye his hosts, ye ministers of his,

that do his pleasure" (Ps. 103:21). All Cherubs,archangels and Seraphim. And from the heavensthe circle descends to include within its boundsinanimate creation. Not only must everythingthat hath breath praise the Lord. "All his worksin all places of his dominion" must magnify his

praise. "Praise ye him, sun and moon; praise

him all ye stars of light. Praise the Lord, yesnow and vapours; stormy wind fulfilling his

word." (Ps. 148). Mountains and hills, cedartrees on Lebanon, beasts and all cattle, creepingthings and the hosts of birds that sing among thebranches, must all make great the name of theLord, must all pour forth abundant speech. Theremust be no people and no tongue where their

voice of praise is not heard. "0 Lord, our Lord,how excellent is thy name in all the earth."

Thus, as man, we are called to praise the Lord,in the midst of a creation from which a voicegoes forth, which invites us to praise God, and

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returns an echo to our song of praise that re-

sounds among the spheres. It is no dead, silent

creation, stricken with dumbness, but a livingcreation, that utters speech. And he whose earis attuned to understand this language of nature,hears the harmonious flow of praise and adoration,which it pours forth in perfect accord with theadoring language of his heart. And betweenthese impulses of the heart, and undulations of

sound in the creation, the Scripture has laid

a tie in the emotional sphere of the world ofsounds, m the wealth of music, in life's treasureof sanctified song. And psalm after psalm calls

on us not only to hear the voice of the Lord in

creation, and with our voice to glorify our God,but also to praise him with organs and stringedinstruments (Ps. 150:4),with lute and harp, withhigh sounding cymbals and joyful noise.

Organs and stringed instruments therefore arenot secondary, but indispensable factors in wor-ship, a means ordered of God for fuller enjoymentin his praise and adoration; that through theworld of music, too, the soul may come closer toGod. Grant that ascription of praise in the houseof prayer, consisting of unaccompanied voices,

can be solemn and impressive, even then this

human singing is music, and improves in meritand effect when it is developed and cultivated byart. Joyful noises from throat and harp both arepart of the harmony which God has put into thewondrous world about us, and which now by thethroat, and now by playing on organ or harp, is

raised and set in harmonious action with theworld of the heart. And whether we strike metal,or cause strings to vibrate, or by our breath drive

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sound from flute or trumpet, it is always an im-pulse in the soul which interprets itself in a vocalutterance of the world of sound, which in all

spheres surrounds us. Neither singer nor harpistcreates the world of music. God created it. It

was there before the first man heard the first joy-ful note of birds. It lies enfolded in the air whichis susceptible to vibration and undulation every-where. And it is given us by voice, by vibrationof throat or by hand, to set this wondrous worldin motion. And when this is done through theinstrument, by throat or hand, it seems that theundulation, the motion, the inward song of theheart flows out in it, catches an echo from it, is

carried along, is relaxed, and enriched, by it.

Enriched in no small part by the fact that othersbeside ourselves at the same moment undergo thesame emotions, experience like sensations in thesoul, so that our praise and worship, through songand organ-play, flow together with theirs into onemighty stream of adoration.

And because these vibrations and undulationsof music react upon us as a power from without,

and lose themselves in the infinite, it seems that

this splendor of harmony, when song is accom-panied by stringed instruments, brings us into

fellowship with God himself, as praise and worshipfrom earth extends itself through the heavens, to

the spheres where angels play the harps of gold,

and where everything merges into one grandsymphony of worship around God's throne.

God has wonderfully adapted the human throat

and vocal chords to the world of harmonies, andno joyful noise on earth excels that of the humanvoice. It is a gift, unequally divided. In southern

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lands people are endowed with finer voices than in

colder regions. In the same country the dif-

ference is wide between the discordant sounds of

the street and the rythmic, cultivated voice of theartist singer. But with whatever difference, in

disposition the human voice is a joyful noise of

heavenly origin; and it shall only be heard in all

its puritj', and wealth of expression in the realmof glory before the throne of God.

B}' itself, however, the human voice leaves agap for which God supplied an equally wonder-ful complement in the instrument. A piece of

brass, a tightly-stretched hide, a horn from ananimal's head, even a reed cut by the riverside areseemingly insignificant, and yet wonderful meansin their effect ordained of God to support thehuman voice, to unite them in chorus and to bringthe human heart to co-operate and to harmonizewith the world of sounds that surrounds us.

But even this is not free from sin. The art of

music is mainly employed for the sake of manand not for God. It seeks no higher calling thanto please the ear, to move the heart with untrueemotions, and to feast upon a wealth of enjoy-ment that is devoid of higher tendencies. Thissin was less evident with the Masters than witha godless public, that uses purely for its ownpleasure the master creations which, composed for

the gloiy of God, inspire holy motives. Thisaccounts for the distaste among devout believers

for secularized music. And this is fair. Evenmusic is not innocent. Vitiated music is a powerthat degrades. It counts its victims bj'- heca-tombs. But it is not fair that on account of its

abuse, vocal and instrumental music should be

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eliminated from the services of the sanctuary.Far better offset abuse by the sanctified use of

voice and stringed instrument. The revival of

sacred music is always a sign of a higher activityof life. Christian people who do not sing andplay for the glory of God ASTong themselves.

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'IN SALEM IN HIS TABERNACLE."Salem is the abbreviated form for Jerusalem.

''In Salem in his tabernacle" means in its first,

literal sense, that the tabernacle which was madein the wilderness, and had been moved from placeto place, had finally been brought to the top of

Mount Zion, so that God's dwelling place waswithin the walls of Jerusalem,This sounds strangely to us. Involuntarily we

ask: How can God be omnipresent and at thesame time dwell in a given city, on a certain

mountain top, in a tabernacle or temple? If in

the old dispensation God had his tabernacle in

Salem, and his dwelling-place in Zion, was notIsrael more privileged than we? Have we thenretrograded instead of advanced? Is the Gospel,which has no knowledge of Jerusalem on earth,

poorer than the ritual of shadows that couldpoint to the place of God's presence? Especially

when we read in the Psalms of "praise" that"waiteth in Zion," and of a "doorkeeper" in thehouse of the Lord, clearness of insight is greatly

to be desired. Though in early youth we maysing or recite these sentences thoughtlessly, withthe growth of years we demand clearer under-standing. This does not come by the study of

history. It all depends upon personal, intentional

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fellowship with the living God, which is the heartof all religion, upon the urgent desire of the soulto be ever more and more in constant touch withGod. But here we always face an antithesis

which we can never solve, before which all sciencestands helpless; even the antithesis between theinfinity of God and the finiteness of every creature.

The attempt to bridge this gap has been tried

in two ways. It has been vainly tried by man,and it has been brought about by God. In vainit has been tried by man in the way of theheathen, who have- reduced the infinity of theAlmighty to the finite form of an image. Theresult was idolatry which killed the spirit, andwhich ended in the petrifaction of all religion.

But it has been brought about by God, who hasswept away all polytheism and idolatry by orig-

inally confining his service to one place, b}^ clear-

ing his temple on Zion of every image of him-self, and by maintaining the spiritual characterof his worship ; and who, when the dispensation of

shadows had fulfilled its calling, gave us his templein the incarnated Word, and on Pentecost extendedthis temple to his whole church, which is theIsrael of the new Covenant. Along this wondrous,Divine way the end has been reached, that now,without weakening in the least, the Divine Infinity

or Omnipresence, the children of God know thatthey have to seek access to God in Christ; thatthey can enjoy his fellowship in the communionof saints; and that they see their hearts more andmore fashioned by the Holy Ghost into a dwell-

ing place of God.The clear representation, which this brings us,

is, that the child of God, amid whatever dark-

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ness or distress, is nowhere burdened with theoppressive thought that God is far ofif and thathis presence can not be found in prayer. Wher-ever he kneels down he knows that God is there;

that he is close at hand; that he listens to theprayer; that he sees and understands his child,

and knows his way in every particular; and thatno heart-string can vibrate either with sorrow or^vith joy, but God knows in advance what soundit would emit. "There is not a word in mytongue, but, lo, Lord, thou knowest it alto-

gether. Thou compassest my path and my lying

down, and art acquainted with all my ways"(Ps. 139:4,3). While on the other hand also

God's child is constantly under the mighty im-pression of the majestj^ and supremacy of theLord. In his descent to us the glory and the holi-

ness of the Lord may never be lost from sight.

To this end the Lord has made it known, that

the same God who is ever close by everj^ one of

us, has his throne in the heavens, that there alonehe unveils his glorious majesty, and is for nomoment lost in the smallness, insignificance andfiniteness of our human life. Life above and life

on earth are distinctly separated, and not here,

but only when we shall have passed through thegate of death, shall our eye see him in the fulness

of his glory, in the Jerusalem, that is above.The transition lies between these two. The

transition in Christ, the transition in the com-munion of saints, the transition by the indweUingof the Spirit in our hearts; and this is the taber-

nacle in Salem, his dwelling place in Zion, his

presence with the Israel of God. It goes on overand back. Christ in the flesh set in the heavens,

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the Spirit descending into our hearts, and as wellin Christ as in the Holy Ghost God Himself is

worshipped by us.

This is the mystery. The son of man, who is

one of us, who is our brother, who is closely re-

lated to us, and who in our nature has gone intoheaven, does not stand by the side of God, but is

himself God. The closest possible fellowship be-tween God and man is thereby realized. On theother hand, while Christ is for all, the Holy Spirit

descends and makes his dwelling in the heart ofevery child of God separately. Thus he foundsa Salem in the hidden recesses of the soul, whereGod himself indwells, where his Divine life in-

spires us, and where it becomes the source of all

our holier and higher emotions, sensations andimpulses. And these two operate upon, and com-plement, one another. So that there is no fellow-ship with Christ apart from the Holy Ghost,and on the other hand there is no indwelling of

the Holy Ghost save on the ground of our fellow-

ship with God in Christ. Our nature in Christdwelling in the heavens, and the Holy Ghostindwelling in our heart on earth. Thus God him-self has laid the bridge of holy living, with onepier anchored in the heavens, and with the otherresting in the center of our own human heart.Even these two points of support, however, are

in need of union. This they find in the com-munion of saints. Everyone knows for himselfhow his fellowship with God is strengthened whenhe is in touch with saints in the earth, and how onthe other hand this fellowship suffers loss, whenhe has no other human contact than that of peo-ple of the world. The deep joy of the sacrament

of the Lord's supper springs from the focus of

this fellowship. The holy supper bears witness tohim of the glory of Christ, but only in the con-gregation, not without it. Hence no higher andholier institution could have been given to men,than when "in the night in which he was be-trayed" Christ brake the bread and poured thewine, and called the Holy Supper into being.

This is the centrum; here all lines become one,along which fellowship is established between thesoul and God.Nothing therefore is more heinous, than the sin-

ful doing of those who by quarrelling and bypassionate contention for the right of particular

views cause this fellowship of God's saints toweaken and to grow faint. Our Savior gave us anew commandment, even that we love oneanother. This new love, which he commanded, is

the tenderest love that is thinkable on earth, since

it is in the flood-tide of this new love, that Godwill draw near unto us, and lift us up to himself.

And what does he do, who, failing to understandthis new love, abuses the church and this holyfellowship of love for the sake of propagatinghis own particular views, but break down Salem,destroy the tabernacle of the Lord, and as far as

he is able obstruct fellowship with God?

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"THE NIGHT IS FAR SPENT."After conversion we are in an intermediate state

until death. The night is far spent, the day is

at hand, but it is not yet noon. That only comeswhen the glory of Christ shall break in upon all

spheres. Until that hour we are ever approach-

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ing the day in its fulness, though in fact we walkin twihght. It is light, but that light is dim.Even after conversion we continue therefore pro-

visionally in a certain kind of sleep, and the con-vert can only gradually escape its after-effects.

Such was Ihe case in the days of St. Paul, whenthe change was far greater for the convert thannow. Speaking for himself and for the convertsat Rome the Apostle emphatically declares: "It

is now (i. e. so and so many years after their

conversion)—it is now high time to awake out of

this sleep (which was still upon us) for now is oursalvation nearer than when we believed." Andthen he adds: "The night is far spent, the day is

at hand" (Rom. 13:11, 12).

This detracts nothing from the incontrovertibletruth, that he who came to conversion today, andtomorrow falls asleep in Jesus, is sure of everlast-

ing salvation. But it does say, that he who after

conversion is given yet many years of life uponearth, passes from the mists into ever clearer

light, gets farther away from the night, and is

conscious of the ever closer approach of the light

of day. In nature there is no sudden disappear-ance of night, in order to give place with equalsuddenness to the day and the noontide sun.There are transitions in nature from darkness intodawn and from dawn into broad daylight. Tran-sitions which are of longer duration in some partsof the world, than in others, but which occureverywhere. And so it is in the spiritual life.

The new convert does not become holy in hispurposes, tendencies and manner of life, all atonce. From "being alienated from the life ofGod" he does not at once come into full fellow-

337

ship with God. Where it was night in the soul,

the sun does not immediately after conversionstand at the zenith. Here also are transitions.

Beginning with a first ray of light; a first partingof clouds; a first breaking up of mists until a glowfrom higher spheres strikes the eye of the soul.

And then it goes farther and farther. From graceto grace. More quickly with one, and with anothermore 'slowly. First a waking out of the sleep of

error and sin. Then a shaking of oneself loosefrom this sleep. Afterward a waking up. Andpresently a going out into the light. And in this

transition we have the incessantly moving powerof the Christian life. Not to continue standingwhere we stand, but going on, and going on everfurther. It is first a star that rises out of Jacob;presently the sun of salvation is at the horizon;and at length the sun, which sheds clear light onthose that wandered about in darkness. It is all

one course of triumph and victory for those to

whom the lack of such light would mean eternal

night, but it is a growing light, that ever rises

higher, and at every moment becomes brighter;

and Christian life would be worthless in this

world, if the eye of the soul, as it gradually be-

comes accustomed to stronger light of grace, didnot obtain thereby an ever clearer insight into

the riches of God's mercy.This brings a threefold growth. Growth in

inner strength; growth in the more effective exhi-

bition of the powers of the kingdom; and growthin fellowship with God, which is the heart of all

religion. There is growth in inner strength throughthe fuller strength imparted from the heavenlykingdom. The night is far spent, and light shines

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ever more clearl}' in the soul. God shows this

favor in the personal life. Increasing brightness

in our personal skies. Less night and more dayin which ever more and ever clearer light is

sown on our pathway. As an effect of this innergrowth, there is greater exhibition of power. Hewho must travel in the earh' dawn makes little

headway, but when clearer daylight illumines thewa}^ he quickens his pace. Hence the exhorta-tion of the apostle : "Let us therefore cast off theworks of darkness, and let us put on the wholearmor of light. Let us walk honestly, as in theday." For as long as light and darkness strive

for mastery in the soul, there is continual hesi-

tancy and slipping of the foot. But with morelight there comes more moral courage. We be-come more animated, we become more bold in

holy undertakings, and more light shines out fromus upon others. Instead of tottering, the stepbecomes firm; instead of work half-done, laborsare finished and made perfect. Nor is this all.

For however far we may be developed alongmoral lines, development in piety is more sig-

nificant, and the rich gain which the clearer in-

shining of heavenl}^ light brings, is the growingtenderness of our fellowship with God.Dark night prevails in the human heart at large

through the oppression of error and sin. God trulyis, and he truly is close by, but though mankindmaj' feel its waj^ if haply it may find him, it

is not aware of him, it does not see him, anddiscovers nothing of his holy presence. Thickdarkness compasses it about and makes it feel

oppressed, and the sense of uncertainty, and ofanxiet}', as a serpent of suspicion, creeps into the

339

heart. This thick darkness is the explanation of

all idolatry and of all heathen oppression. Andtherefore Simeon rejoices m Christ as in "a light,"

so great, so beautiful, which having come downfrom the throne of heaven, lightens the darkenedvision of the Gentiles. The densest darkness of

the peoples is that they know not God, that end-less night excludes them from God, that no rayof heavenly light illumines their pathway, andthat, without God in the world, they hasten onto judgment.Every convert therefore is called a child of

light. He does not merely walk in the light, butfrom it he is born a child of God. Light in thesoul from above, even though but a single rayis perceived, is inward wealth. It is peace in lieu

of distress, rest in lieu of care, trust in lieu of

despair, courage in lieu of inward faintness. Thislight shines on his way, it makes him know his

own heart and the heart of his fellowmen, it

brings wisdom in place of self-conceit, and en-

nobles all human existence. But highest andholiest of all, this light discloses to him more andmore the way of access to God; it lifts the banthat separated and excluded him from God; andnow by degrees begins the tender, blessed life

which enters upon the secret walk with God,which makes him aware of God at every step of

life's way, as his Father who loves him, and as

his Shepherd who leads him. This fellowship andwalk with God, this dweUing in the house of the

Lord, is not always the same that it provisionally

was, but it advances, it makes progress, gains in

intimacy, warmth and clearness. Not only is thenight, that hid God from the inner eye, far spent,

S40

but he gets farther and farther away from it. Thetransition is continuous from night into clearer

day, until at length there is fellowship with God,which the world neither knows nor understands,but which to him is highest reality, the source,

the ever free-flowing fountain of the strength of

his life.

Many Christian people, alas, after conversionlove to remain in slumber, and consequently lose

the joy of this closer communion with God. Theyare the sick ones among the brethren, from whomno virtue can go out. There are others, however,God be praised, who know nothing of standingstill, who enter ever more deeply into the secret

of the infinite, and now waken every morning withGod, labor all day long with God, and lay them-selves down at night to sleep with God. And thej'

are the salt of the earth, and of God's churchamong the saints, and they keep the church fromdesecration and from languishing away in death.

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"WITHOUT GOD IN THE WORLD."Not only with individuals, but in broad and

influential circles denial of God breaks forth,

stalks abroad, and puts every mask aside. Thiswas different even twenty years ago. Individualatheists openly boasted of infidelity, and therebyaroused aversion, which with many turned into

abhorrence. Many people were done with religion

in any form, but to be taken for atheists was con-sidered an insult. They were not atheists. Theyhad broken with traditional views of Divine things,

but the eye of their soul was open to the eternal,

341

so the}' said, and their heart still went out after

the unknown Infinite.

Now another step is taken. Even the appear-ance of godliness can be laid aside. Atheists havediscovered that especially among cultivated

classes they are represented by more people thanthey had dared to surmise. They observe thatwhen they confess their denial of God, publicopinion takes it calmly, and at times hails it as

an evidence of honesty. Even among the faith-

ful we have become so accustomed to the grow-ing numbers of those who deny God that we are

scarcely aware of the trembling which it occa-sioned in better days.

This is significant. When a child for the first

time hears his father or mother evilly spoken of,

he resents it. But when in the course of tenyears he has grown accustomed to such talk, andcan listen to it calmlj^, he has suffered moral loss.

This applies to a nation with respect to its

sovereign. When violation of royal dignity first

begins, indignation will be general. But whenthis violation is continued, and royal defects formthe topic of daily public talk, people cease to beaffected by it. Respect for what is high becomesoutworn. And in the same waj'- a people haslost something of the gold of its wings, when in

its best circles it has become so accustomed to

the language of atheism, that it raises no moreprotest among them. Especially along this line

evil communications corrupt good manners. Herea poison works unobservedly that extinguishes

higher aspirations and unnerves the elasticity of

confession.

"Without God in the world" is not the most

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dangerous fofm of atheism. Many are atheists

from sheer indifference. They care for nothing.Others are atheists, because in their career of sin-

ful pleasure the}^ will not brook trouble from their

consciences. Others again are atheists, because in

their own wisdom they are too proud to bowbefore God. But each of these three groups main-tains discreet silence about God, rather than thatfrom enmity it would seriously oppose the faith.

They live "without God in the world" but thej-

are no fanatics, who strive to banish God fromthe world. When it comes to this, spiritual infat-

uation reaches its highest degree, and every pros-pect of recovery is cut off.

That this atheistic fanaticism obtains publichearing from time to time, and that tracts, bear-ing the most shameful titles^ are broadcast throughthe land, to slander faith in God and to make it

appear ridiculous, is most dangerous for the life

of a nation. For it betrays the presence of apoison in national life that is bound to work harmand to break national elasticity. Even among theheathen, slander of the gods was made punish-able; and almost every nation that was great at

first and then went down, shows in history this

sad process, that it began with wealth ; that wealthproduced moral decay; that moral decay led toreligious indifference; that then in more culti-

vated circles people lived "without God in theworld;" and that at length fanaticism broke outagainst all religion, whereby at last the peoplebecame wholly degenerate and were overtaken bydisgraceful ruin.

In the days of St. Paul like conditions of un-godliness prevailed in Ephesus, and of the con-

343

verts there to Christ it is said that at one timethey themselves were without hope and withoutGod in the world (Eph. 2:12). And this states

painfully what we see all about us. With dif-

ferences in degree many live year after year whothink no more of God, and speak no more abouthim; no more religious books are found in their

homes; they never pray, and their children growup without religion. Baptism is no more known.They marry outside of the church. They burytheir dead as we bury a dog. Their lives withoutGod in the world, as such, are perfect.

But most people have not gone such lengths.

At marriage they can not dispense with thesolemnity of the church service. Many have their

children baptized. In times of serious illness theystill call upon God. Some do not consider relig-

ion superfluous in the education of children, andallow their servants time to attend church. Butapart from these minor exceptions they live for

the rest altogether in the world without God.And the worst of it is that they can live in this

manner year after year, and not feel unhappyabout it. The sense of need of communion witha higher life is almost wholly lost from their hearts,

and they do not miss life with God. Living in

the world without God has become their secondnature. When it is over, all is done. No morevoice in the soul speaks of desire after higherthings. From one pleasure they go to another,

and however little religion we would measure out

to them, it would not satisfy them, but prove a

burden. The same tenor of mind and heart whichwas abroad for two thousand years in the declin-

ing world of the pagan Roman Empire has made

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itself master of these present-day out-and-outpeople of the world. They still strive for higherthings. They are lovers of art. They are zealousin works of philanthropy. They labor for generalculture as they understand it. At times they dotewith ideals that awaken the poetic talent in them.But far from being led thereby to worship, this

higher, more ideal Hfe is the ground from whichthey explain the superfluity of religion. Religionmay do for the lower classes of society. Theyhave outgrown it. To live without God in theworld they consider a means by which to securehigh places of honor in the life of this world.Love alone can save the world from these con-

ditions. At Ephesus there were people who atone time lived without God in the world, but whoby hundreds were turned to God, not by reproachesand uncharitable criticisms, but by the love where-with the apostles approached them. In this apos-tolic love the reality of life in the world with Godwas luminous. This thawed out hearts and cap-tured them. This reality is not devoid of creed.There is no greater witness for the truth and thefacts of the Gospel than St. Paul. This reality

of life with God is not without forms. Preaching,Baptism and Holy Communion stand ever in theforeground. But the power behind the creed andthe service of forms was the work of the HolyGhost, his indwelling in the heart, and life inconstant fellowship with God. If then the churchof God would raise a barrier in the way of in-creasing atheism of our times, let her hold fast toher confession, and honor the sacred services ofthe sanctuary. But above all things else, let herguard the essence that is behind these forms, and

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cultivate with young and old the supreme reality

of life with God.This requires effort. We must live in the world.

God only calls us out of the world at death. Andalmost everything in the world draws us awayfrom God. Not only wealth and temptation, butalso the incessant activity of life, labor that is

strenuous, multiplicity of interests, much troubleand sorrow. Among confessing christians thereare all too many, therefore, who count themselveschristians and can live for hours and for days at

times without a thought of God, who are dis-

tracted in mind even in their prayer, and who arescarcely aware of what it means to be ''near untoGod" and Vvith him to live in constant fellow-

ship of the Spirit. This lack can not be madegood by sound creeds, nor by constant bearingwitness. Life with God in the world can not bereplaced by much activity and good works. Thelamp can not burn unless it is continually fed

with oil. Not in us, but in God alone is the powerand the might, that can break unbelief in theworld. And in this conflict we can only be instru-

ments in the hand of the Lord, when his powerinwardly animates us, when his Spirit inwardlyimpels us, and when ''to be near unto God" andin the midst of the world to live with God, hasbecome our second, our regenerated nature.

65

'T WILL WALK AMONG YOU."Vital fellowship with God can not merely be per-

sonal. It must also be collective. Whatever touchesmerely the world of our own heart is personal.

And whatever we go through with others, who are

connected with us by fixed ties, is collective.

There is a collective life of the family, of thechurch, of callings and professions, and of nations.

And that there is vital fellowship with God in thesecret places of the soul, is not enough. In thefamily also, in the church and in social life fellow-

ship with God must be a power. And it must beexpressed in this: that God walks with us and wewith God. Not only the first, but also the sec-

ond. It is not enough that personally and collec-

tively we have blessed experiences of continuousoutgoings of the soul after God. This can alwaysbe the practice of communion with God fromafar. Walking together the highway of life de-mands on the contrarj' that we go to God, thatGod comes to us, that the holy meeting is mutual,and that hand in hand with God we continue thejourney of life. When it has come to this withus personally, we are in a christian way. Whenit has come to this in our family, we have aChristian home. When this is the case in ourchurch, we enjoy a church life, which is notmerely Christian in i.ame but in fact. And whenin social or state circles we have the same experi-ence with those who are of like calling or con-viction with ourselves, then here also the Chris-tian banner not merely has been raised, but thecause for which, together, we suffer and strive is

truly Christian.

To Moses and Israel the Lord expressed this asfollows: 'T will walk among you" (Lev. 26:12).In the case of Abraham it is only said personally,that he walked with God. But with Moses thereis mention of collective fellowship of God withhis people. Hence it does not say: 'T will be

347

with you, as shepherd of my people," but farbetter: **I will walk in the midst of you" (Dutchversion). The Lord going forth with his people,and at every step of the way the people beingconscious of his nearness and of their fellowshipwith God.

This can be fellowship from both sides, a walk-ing together of the way in holy love. But it canalso be a walking together in sin on the part of

man and in indignation on the part of God. *Tf

. . . ye will walk contrary unto me" said theLord, "then will I also walk contrary unto you,and will punish you yet seven times for your sins"

(vs. 23, 24) . Contrariness is what we call antipathy.We can walk with a man who is antipathetic to

us, whose presence is not agreeable, and whosecompany is not desired. He who feels and observesthat God walks with him on the way, and still

inclines unto sin, feels constrained by the pres-

ence of the Lord. Even as a child, that is bentupon mischief, does not dare to do it, as long as

father or mother is close by, but takes his chancethe moment father or mother is gone, so a Chris-

tian man does not dare to carry his sinful designinto execution, so long as he feels that God is

near. If only he could outrun God. But this is

impossible. He can close his eyes so as not to

see God, but even then the Lord continues to

reveal his presence in the conscience. This gives

rise to the unholy strife of willingness to sin, andof inability to do it, because God stands in theway. And if sin is not abandoned, contrariness

to God springs up in the heart, even the deeply-sinful antipathy to the nearness of God. Andsince there is nothing that so angers God, as the

348

desire, the tendency of the heart, not to seek, butto be delivered from, God, the favor of God tousward turns into holy antipathy. Thus the path-way of life is walked with God in enmity and in

bitterness, and the Holy Spirit is grieved.

This does not happen with a child of the world.He does not walk with God. He walks alone. Heperceives nothing, feels nothing, sees nothing of

the nearness of God. Hence he can not fall into

sin in this way. His sin bears another character.

But if we belong to the company of the re-

deemed, if we walk with people in whose midstthe Lord walks, all sinful living must be stopped,or else, if it is yet continued, the terrible sin of

contrariness, of antipathy to God will spring upin the heart. The inner life of the soul will becorrupted, and presently all of the after-life onearth. And the ill-omened deception is, that this

contrariness, this antipathy only shows itself, at

the point of some special sin. This gives rise tothese monstrous conditions, that in all other waysa man may seek after God, may be zealous in

Divine service, may maintain devout habits of

prayer, but as often as this particular sin comesin question, may lose at once all self-control, andperceiving that God continues to walk with him,may feel no longer comforted by thi^ blessed near-ness, but merely hindered thereby in his sin. Andif the sin is still persisted in, the most terrible

contrariness follows, even the dreadful contrari-

ness of God.The case is not the same with sin that is com-

mitted from lack of strength. For then whentempted, the heart will seek refuge with God. Weare well aware at such times that Satan plans to

349

undo us, and we hold ourselves fast bj^ God for

protection against evil. And we may stumble,but even in the act of it, refuge will be takenwith the unseen Companion who walks at ourside. He will be invoked for forgiveness and help.And he who knoweth whereof we are made, will

show mercy and keep us from self-destruction.

Of course we must be fully bent upon followingGod whithersoever he leadeth, and choose nopaths of our own with the expectation that Godwill follow us. The goings of God, both past andpresent, are altogether such as lead to the king-dom of heaven, and result in making his Namegreat.

What then are the goings of our life? What is

our aim in life? Whither doth our pathway lead?As children of God we pray every day: "Hal-lowed be Thy Name, Thy Kingdom Come, ThyWill be Done;" and if this three-fold prayer is

not a mere form of words, but the compass of

our life, our goings will be identical with thegoings of God. Then we and God walk the samewa--. in the same direction, with the same end in

view. He in infinite greatness, and we in theinsignificant littleness of our quickly-passing life.

But as individual drops we move along in the

wave-beat of the ocean of God. All of life thenmoves itself in the direction of the mighty ap-pointment of God, and in this way we can walkwith God, the whiles he walks with us, and fromboth sides it is continued in the bond of holylove.

But this is almost only possible in collective

fellowship. One only has ever trodden the wine-press alone. Every other hero of the faith has

350

been upborne by the example, sympathy and fel-

lowship of what is called the people of God. Thisis a sacred appellation, which no single group mayarbitrarily appropriate to itself, and which is onlyreal where God himself walks in the midst of

those who share his favor. We are at once awarein family, in church and in society, whether pur-poses and endeavors coincide with the goings of

God, or whether they are mere exhibits of out-ward forms of piety. These mere outward formsdo not satisfy, they lend no support, they do notbear one up. Rest is only found when it is per-

ceived that the presence of the Lord is a spiritual

reality in the family, in the church, and in society,

and that God himself walks in the midst of them.Then it is not enough that God walks with us

and that we walk with him, but we feel that thesame is true of the wife, the husband, the chil-

dren, the brother or sister, the preacher, churchofficials, societies and associations. We know it of

one another. We make the nearness of Godclearer and more real to one another. We are

not silent about it. We enjoy it together. Collec-tively we receive from him the sacred impulsewith united forces to continue in his goings, andto hold his name high. The Lord is then notonly close to the heart, but he is in the midst of

us. He is the common center of all our interests

and the tie that binds us together. It is then notmerely a pious frame of mind but a godly life, aconsecrated purpose, and zealous co-operationfrom which that holy activity is born, which in

every department of life overcomes the worldand makes virtues to go out, which are not fromus, but which flame out in us from him who walks

2U

in the midst of us, because he is the source of ourlight, of our strength and of the inspiration ofour hfe.

"THAT THOU MAYEST CLEAVE UNTOHIM."

Sin nowhere makes more rapid advances thanin religion. Religion is the service of the TriuneGod. It is the highest and best that enriches thehuman heart. But the best is always the first

that is exposed to corruption.Outside of Europe and America the Almighty

created and supports a thousand million personswho continually die and are replaced, but whoin this coming and going are utter strangers tothe secret of salvation. Missionshave done some-thing, but what are they compared with the thou-sand millions of Asia and Africa, and the unitedforces of Islam and Heathendom? These mil-

lions, especially in Asia, are by nature very sus-

ceptible to religious impressions, much more soin fact than most of the nations of Europe. Butthey choose their own way, and are dead to all

true knowledge of the way of the Lord. And as

often as God from his Throne looks down uponthose millions in Asia and Africa, there is neveran echo among them of the songs of worship andpraise of the heavenly hosts. They kneel downbefore all sorts of things, but they never worshipthe Triune God.Compared with this darkness of night in Asia

and Africa, in Europe and America it is light.

There is scarcely a village in these parts of the

world, in which the sacrament of Baptism is not

administered, where there is no church of Christ,

large or small, and where there are not somedeeply spiritual souls that live very "near untoGod." This makes no secret of the fact howeverthat in thickly-populated centers and even in

larger villages the great majority of people are

either dead to the service of the Lord, or merelyadhere to it outwardly, and attach no single trace

of spiritual reality to it. When this lack of re-

ligion began to assume ever larger and moreunequal proportions, a gigantic effort was put forth

to purify Divine service, to reform and to trans-

form it, which at first worked admirably. Butnow look at the Geneva of Calvin, the Saxony of

Luther, or at the Hague of William the Silent,

and confess whether we do not face new disap-pointments, and whether the half of the popula-tion of these places is not estranged again fromtrue religion. By means of the Reveille and of

the spread of infidelity Christian revival ensued,which fortunately is making progress, but evenin the circles that have been revived, we feel

troubled again at the coldness, formalism andmanifest lack of sacred fire. Even when we con-fine ourselves to the narrowest circle of the fam-ilies that is still devoted to the service of theLord, and examine to what degree of heat thespiritual arose and maintained itself in it, we areconstantly disappointed, and we ask again andagain whether that is all that is felt for, and con-secrated to, our faithful God and Father. Andwhen at last we look at our own family, andcloser still confine ourselves to our own heart,

and ask ourselves what the inner life for and withGod is, in home and heart, and what it ought to

353

be for this faithful Father, who is not moved toask in despair, whether constant, inward, tender,ever-in-grace increasing piety has not becomeimpossible for us?

This question can only in part be answered in

the affirmative. Sin works effects which ener-vate and weaken, so that even in the most godlycircles true religion is most of the time at lowebb, and only in rare moments of spiritual

tension does it rise to the fullness of flood-tide.

The result is disheartening. God looks down uponthis world morning by morning and evening byevening, and continues his Fatherly care over his

fourteen hundred million of children of men, butonly here and there does the psalm of worshipand pure love arise before him from a tender,

devout heart.

But age upon age God continues in everlasting

love to entice us by his Word, to call us and to

draw us to this full, true and unshakable religion,

which finds its terse expression in the supremecommand that we shall cleave unto the Lord ourGod (Deut. 30:20). It is the image of the child

at mother's breast, who literally cleaves to her,

and hangs on her, fosters himself in the warmthof the mother-life, feeds himself at the fountainof mother's breast, and cries when he feels him-self separated from mother. And this supremecommand, that we must depend on God, andcleave to him, protests in the name of the TriuneGod against all mechanical religion, and against

every endeavor to reduce it to mere formalism.It does not exclude thinking on God, but declares

that intellectual activity with God is not religion.

It includes the confes.sion of God, but denies the

S54

right to assert that religion consists of confession.

It posits the claim of an holy life, and of abound-ing in good works, but deprives us of the illusion

that true piety can ever be satisfied with this.

It certainly demands high esteem for outwardforms of Divine service, but resists the errorwhich identifies forms with the essence of religion

itself. It is inconceivable apart from zeal for

God's kingdom, but it declares that though all of

life is spent for God, apart from love, we are meresounding brass or tinkling cymbals. It tolerates

no boast of true religion apart from personalfellowship with God in the secret intimacy of

communion. And even when we can thank himfor the grace, that at times in earnest prayer this

heavenly fellowship with God in Christ was foodfor the soul, it still declares, that this occasionalseeking after and visiting with God is not yet all

of true religion, because true religion demands,that without break or interruption we shall cleaveunto God, and hang as it were on God. Suchdependence upon God imj)lies, that moment bymoment, we feel God's presence in the heart, andthat with all the powers of our soul we holdourselves fast by God.But holiest saints confess, that such inward

spirituality is impossible in this life. The heartis not attuned to it, and life round about us is

not adapted to it. Simple honesty demands thatthis be openly and candidly confessed, providedit be accompanied with self-accusation and shame-facedness. Attainment of this highest good hasbeen tried. In every age there have been thosewho for the sake of cleaving solely unto Godhave renounced life in the world, and have with-

366

drawn themselves to cell or hermitage. Butthough they could banish the world from the

cloister, they took their hearts with them, and it

was the heart itself that obstructed the way to

closer fellowship with God. This was possible in

Paradise, and has become such again in the con-

gregation of the saints made perfect above. Butit is not within reach here on earth. We may notwithdraw ourselves from life. We have here acalling to fulfil, and to do service for our God.We can not separate ourselves from the heart.

It is ever with us. But God knoweth what weare made of. He remembereth that we are dust.

And he covers our guilt, of not reaching the un-reachable, in gracious forgiveness.

Only we are not to rest content with this. Wemust not resign ourselves to this. We must holdthe imperfection of our religion ever clearly beforeour eyes. We must enter complaint against our-selves, which will itself become the stimulus toseek from day to day, and from week to week,after closer fellowship with God. And here is

the difference between superficial and true religion.

The superficial worshipper understands that hecan never attain unto such an unbroken cleaving

to God, and so he continues his life calmly andpeacefully, without ever finding the secret walkwith God. All deeper and truer piety on the

other hand is grieved, that this fellowship of soul

with the faithful, loving Father is continually

broken. Whenever it perceives that it has lost

its hold on God, it trembles. It rebukes itself

and courageously strives to restore the brokencommunion, until in the end, the moments of

356

life spent with God increase, and the moments of

separation from God decrease.

To cleave unto the Lord with all the heartand soul and consciousness is then at first aheavenly joy which ma}^ be tasted only once in

a whole month. Gradually it becomes a com-munion of soul without which no week pa^es.By degrees it becomes an elevation of soul whichrepeats itself almost daily. Going on this way,this happy joy in God returns several times a day,so that even by night, upon waking, the nearnessof the Lord is consciously^ felt. And though evenso, the highest still remains beyond our reach,cleaving unto God begins to occupy ever widerroom in our lives. And not intimacy with God in

solitude, but intimac}' with God in the midst of

our busy lives becomes the booty of the soul.

Then it is no more a singing after Asaph: "It is

good for me to be near unto God," but it be-comes a singing like Asaph from blessed experi-ence of heart.

67

''SAMUEL DID NOT YET KNOW THELORD."

When it is asked of a person whether we knowhim, the meaning can be twofold. Casually, it

may mean whether we would know him if wemet him. With respect to his character it maymean whether we understand him. He, who onthe eve of your departure for Java, entrusts animportant document to your care, for sbme oneliving there, merely intends by the questionwhether you know him, to prevent j^our handingthe same to the wrong person. When, however,

357

some one consults his father about a businessscheme with some man, the father's question in

reply: ''Do you know him," will mean: Areyou sure that he is honorable, reliable and trust-

worthy as to his business ability?

This two-fold significance of knowing anyonepersonally must be reckoned with in Scripture andin knowledge of God. To know is always funda-mentally an observation of difference. He who is

not conversant with botany, only sees trees andshrubs; while he who observes the difference be-tween oak and beech trees, oleander and rhodo-dendron, jasmine and snowball, begonia andheliotrope, recognizes what he sees and rejoices

in the wealth of it. The same is true among peo-ple. In the business street of a foreign city wesee nothing but people who pass us bj^ withoutspeaking, while in our home town every one is

familiar to us, and we even know the name some-times of the smallest child. But this goes nofurther than the difference between A and B. Weknow people from one another. We know thedifference between them. We do not mistakethem in passing. Their appearance is familiar.

We know them at first sight. But if we meanthat closer and more intimate knowledge whichenables us to form some idea of a man's char-

acter, inner life, endeavors and aims, another dif-

ference is at stake. Not the difference in cloth-

ing, facial features and outward appearance, butthe distinct knowledge of a man's bearing, utter-

ances and feelings. Such knowledge becomes a

testing; an entering into the inward existence of

such a person.

Where it is told of Samuel that he did not yet

358

know the Lord (I Sam. 3:7), it means exclusively

this first outward knowledge; and not the deeperknowledge of the Divine Being, which only springs

from secret communion. By night Samuel heardhimself called by name. He heard it as clearly

and plainly as though Eli had called him. Buthe did not j^et know the difference between acall by name from God and a call by name froma man. Three times therefore he went to Eli,

saying: "Thou didst call me." And only when Eli

assured him, that he had not called him, and at

last told him that it might be a call from God,a new light arose upon Samuel, and in that voicehe recognized the voice of God. The voice is a

wonderful mystery. Every person has his ownvoice. Even in the dark we recognize father, hus-band or brother at once by the voice. The wonderis equally great that as each man and child hasa voice of his own, we are able to distinguish

between them. And so has the Lord a voice of

his own and it is for us to recognize the voice of

God in distinction from the voice of man. Hewho does not understand this difference, does notknow the Lord as yet. He who understands it.

knows the Lord. This provisionallv outwardknowledge of God leads of itself to the more inti-

mate fellowship of the Lord, whereby graduallythe full, rich knowledge of the perfection of Godis attained, which is eternal life.

In this knowledge of God there is a twofolddispensation. The first in Old and New Testa-ment was the portion of patriarchs, prophets andapostles They received a special revelation fromGod. God spake with them in dreams, visionsand appearances, but also by internal address in

859

their hearts or by external address to their ears.

Of course this might have been continued, so thatwe, everyone personally for himself, might haveheard the voice of God. But it has not pleasedGod so to do. It has seemed good to him first

to give his revelation personally to prophets andapostles, with audible voice or by visible appear-ance, and lastly in the incarnated Word.

Afterward, however, this has changed. Revela-tion given up to that time has been collected in

the Scripture, and therein it has become the com-mon good of all believers, the permanent, endur-ing treasure of the whole church of Christ. Thisdoes not mean to say that now there is no moresecret fellowship with God, nor that God can notgive anyone now personal leading and direction;

but nothing more is added to revelation. Torevealed truth nothing more is added. And senti-

mental mysticism which dreams that this is yetpossible, has not been able these nineteen cen-

turies to add a single line to the Scripture.

The method of knowing the Lord has therebybecome different for us from what it was for

Samuel. For us the Word is the voice of God.We do no longer hear ourselves called by name.We receive no more by audible voices new light

from above. Nevertheless the same difference goeson in our behalf. The Scripture speaks to everyman, but with this difference, that one does nothear God's voice in it, because he does not knowGod, while another in reading Scripture hears

God's voice from the same, because grace hasbrought him to the knowledge of God.

This is hard to understand. You, who havebeen permitted to grasp the mystery of the Word,

360

and day by day are subject of the blessed, mysti-cal operation of the same, and thereby have cometo fixed, unshakable faith, you are amazed that in

many families the Bible has been laid aside; that

he who still reads it, finds nothing special in it;

and that you are bitterly resisted, when youmaintain that everyone is duty-bound to subjecthimself to that Word. And yet nothing is moresimple. They who have broken with the Scripture,

do not know the Lord, They do not recognizehis voice, and do not perceive, that in the Scrip-

ture Almighty God calls to them and addressesthem. This makes the separation; this digs theabyss; this divides in the same country one partof the population from the other. This causesbitterness, because they who do not know theLord, and do not hear his address nor his voicein the Scripture, are baptized members of theChurch of Christ; they not only want to be called

Christian, but pride themselves on the fact thatthey honor Christianity as a purely moral power;so that they stand on higher vantage ground andare more enlightened, than narrow adherents of

barren creeds.

This leads to ever sharper distinction betweenpeople and people. They who do not know theLord, who do not hear his Voice, and reject his

Word, are not able to put themselves in theplace of their fellow-countrymen, who delight

themselves in the knowledge of the Lord, whorefresh themselves in listening to his voice andwho have in his Word the fixed ground of their

faith. "While on the other hand they who knowthe Lord, may bear witness to the same, mayopenly confess it, and defend the ordinances of

361

Grod; but they are not able to impart their faith

to others, and to open the inner ear of their

fellowmen to the holy mysticism of our God.There is a difference here. Among those who do

not know the Lord, there are enemies of Godwho have stopped their ears to ever}^ voice of

God; but there are also seeking, wandering spirits,

who envy you j'our faith, and who would thankyou if you might be the means in God's hand to

bring them to it. Of the first, Jesus said: "Givenot that which is holy unto the dogs, neither cast

ye your pearls before swine" (Matt. 7:6).

Nothing can be done with them but to resist

them; to suffer their scorn, and to show them thepower of faith. But of the others Jesus said:

"He who is not against me, is for me." On themthe service of seeking love must be expended.They are the spiritually' sick, who wait for

spiritual nin-sing-of a twofold character. First that

we shall treat them ever}' one according to the

nature of his spiritual malady. John the Baptist

had a proper word for everyone that came to him,and Jesus administered appropriate medicine to

every spiritual invalid. This implies the con-demnation of those who deal with all unbeliever?;

alike, and who thereby show that they knowneither their way nor their time. And secondly(his spiritual nursing posits the no less imperiousclaim that as believers we shall spare them offense

Nothing is more repulsive and more continuouslyoffensive to those who have not faith, than theunspirituality of believers, their formal profession

without moral and spiritual fruit, their zeal with-

out an holy background, their bold assertions

without corresponding seriousness of life. They

862

are inclined to accept the sacred mysteries, pro-

vided they but discover that sacred power goes

out from you. When thej- see no such power;and perceive that fruit remains wanting; that

there is no higher seriousness of life; when theyhear on the contrary, of hypocrites who behindfair exteriors prove themselves inferior in char-

acter to unbelievers, they are offended, and this

keeps them back from Christ.

Such was the case in the days of Samuel, whenHophni and Phineas transgressed in holy things,

and Eli lacked moral courage to make seriou?

protest. Such is the case now when he who calk

himself a believer appears to be at heart a child

of the world. Then the struggle becomes very

fierce. O, that the children of God might under-

stand their sacred calling, to confess their faith

heroically, but above all else, by means of their

family life, of their social activities, and of their

seriousness of purpose; in brief, in all of life, to

be preachers of Jesus Christ.

68

"THEY MAKE HIM A WELL."In countries like ours, where water abounds, it

is difficult to form an adequate idea of thirst.

Hence words of Scripture like "thirsting after

righteousness," or "thirsting after the living God,"are ordinarily taken in far too weak a sense. Ona hot day, after a long walk, or in times of

feverish emotion, we may reach out eagerly after

a cup of cold water, but this is by no means yet

the thirst tliat overtakes people in mountainousdistricts, when not metaphorically, but actually,

the tongue cleaves to the roof of the mouth, the

last drop of saliva is dried up, and the swollenthroat with difficulty allows the breath to passthrough. With such a thirst it becomes a serious,

and ever more anxious longing for moisture, andpassionate craving for water; and he alone whoso understands it, fathoms the depth of the long-ing after God's presence, which is so often ex-

pressed by the congregation in worship of song or

reading of the Psalter, without real appreciationof the panting of the hart after water brooks. Inlike manner, who knows anything now, of ''thirst-

ing after righteousness" such as a St. Paul, aLuther or a Calvin knew it? Even when the cupfilled with righteousness is placed before us, muchis made of the fact that more than one stretches

out a heavy hand for it, and slightly moistens thelips with it. But thirsting after it, calling for it.

inability to longer go without it, a weeping after

God, where do we see it? There are still thosewho thirst, but has not their number diminished?And is not this very lack of real thirsting after

God and after righteousness the banal danger of

our times?This is occasioned by sin. Sin is the cause that,

unless God shows mercy, the stimulus of this

thirst scarcely operates. At times it requires

special grace strongly to revive it again. Suchgrace operated in the days of the apostles, andagain in the days of the Reformation. In these

times this thirst operates, 0, so weakl}^; and O,among so few; and even with these, so faintly.

Let us be grateful to God, if at any time in ourown heart we perceive something of this real

thirsting after the living God. Thousands uponthousands live and die, without ever having

364

known anything about it. How great then is thegrace that has been shown to us!

Prophets and Psalmists, Jesus and apostles livedin a mountainous countr}'. This accounts for thefrequent references in Scripture to water andthirst. ''With Thee is the fountain of life." "Allmy springs are in Thee." ''Ho, every one thatthirsteth, come ye to the Waters." ''Whosoeverdrinketh of the water that I shall give him shall

never thirst." Such is also the striking saying, re-

garding the valley of mulberries in Psalm 84.

Mulberries ripen most lusciously in hottest, sun-niest spots. Thus the valle^^ of mulberries is theimage of those conditions in life, when everythingin us languishes, makes us apprehensive, andchokes us with grief. When the heat of day andthe heat of battle make us pant for air andbreath, when we can do nothing more, and fear

overtakes us, lest, unless God helps us, we shall

faint by the way.There is certainly abundance of water in moun-

tainous districts which flows down from the snow-fields and leaps down in murmuring brooks. Butit is unequally divided. At one time it threatensto drag one down in its wild course; while againone travels a barren path for hours, without find-

ing a single drop. And then there is but onerelief, which is a tiny stream that trickles downthe mountain side. The traveler refreshes liim-

self with this, and as he goes on again, his burn-ing thirst is quenched. Hence in the valley of

mulberries the Psalmist speaks of two forms of

relief. One is that in the midst of scorching heatone comes unexpectedly to such a little stream.The other is that rainclouds gather overhead,

365

which cast broad shadows, and so afford the

traveler protection from the heat of the sun.

Thus it is in the vallej'^ in the midst of the moun-tains, and metaphorically for God's child in themidst of troubles. When, languishing and hard-pressed he can do nothing more. God is a foun-tain to him, and it is God who stretches outbroadly the rain-clouds o^-er him, which coverhim with their shade. "When they pass throughthe valley of mulberrv^ trees, they make him a

well; yea, the raincloud shall cover them withblessings" (Psalm 84:6. Dutch version. vide

R. v.).

Thus to worship, in the living God and in his

Christ, the Fountain of life, has become our com-forting manner of metaphorical speech. And in

order to grasp the rich significance of this meta-phor, one should see for himself what, in moun-tain villages, the village fountain or well is. Inthese villages, which are mostly very small, there

is generally only one well, one fountain, in themidst of the village. From this single fountainever}^ villager drinks. In the morning and at sun-down every person comes to this well, to fill his

pitcher with water, and carry home the precioussupply. Horses and cattle are driven thither to

drink from this same well. Soiled clothes are

carried there, in order, after being washed clean,

to be taken back home. This makes the village

well the center of the entire village life. Every-one gathers around it. At that well people meetone another. There they converse together.

There the common life is lived. And thus thewhole community feels that this single well is

indeed the fountain of life, for the entire village.

If in such a place the Psahn is sung, that God is

the fountain of hfe, everyone understands it, thedehghtful imagery appeals to them ail, and thepregnant thought enters into every soul, that

without God we would perish in our miseries fromthirst, and that God alone is the center, in whomall they who fear his Name are one, and togetherlive one life. ^This has been brought closer yet in Christ. In

C'lii'ist the Fountain of life has been borne into

human life and into human nature. There are

no two fountains of life, one in God and the otherin Christ, but it is the one Fountain of Divinelife, which springs up in the Father, has come close

to us in the Son, and by the Holy Ghost flows

into our heart. When therefore Christ is notsurely worshipped as God^ and knees are not bentbefore him as God, Christianity is gone. ThisOne Christ is the Fountain of life for the entire,

large village, if we may so express it, of theChurch of the Lord on earth. No one has the

water of life in his own home, but every morningand every evening every child of God must goout to this one fountain, which is in Christ, to fill

the pitcher of his soul against the long day andthe long night. This Fountain never disappoints.

It alw^ays flows. Water of life is there to be foundevery moment with fresh supplies. There is nevera shortage of it for anyone. There is abundance for

all. And though our eye does not see it, invisibly

throughout the whole world every true believer's

thirst is quenched from this one Fountain.Thereby this one Fountain of life in Christ is

and remains the center for the life of all peopleand the fellowship for all hearts. All sorts of

distances and separations in society and churcheshold us apart; but spiritually and unseen, all thatare born of God, gather together day by day at

this One Fountain of life. And it is the oneChrist who from his abundance quenches thethirst of all. And from being really one in Christ,

and from this real life from this one Fountain,in spite of differences, beligvers on earth deriveeach day anew, the power of unity by which torealize and to work out the kingdom of heavenon the earth.

But it must be an act of faith. It says: "Theymake of him a well." It does not go of itself.

Thousands upon thousands, alas, come and go,

without ever having known, admired, and quenchedtheir thirst from, this Fountain. The act of faith

alone brings one into fellowship with this Foun-tain. Christ wants to be accepted. By faith wemust make him our Well. It is with this also as

it is in the mountain village. Sometimes therelives a rich man in such a village. He has dug awell in his own yard for himself. He has no need,therefore, mornings and evenings to go to thevillage well. But the others, the poor people,have no such well of their own. Hence it also

applies here: Blessed are the poor in spirit, for

they go out after the Fountain of life, hencetheirs is the kingdom of God.

69

"BY MY GOD I LEAP OVER A WALL."When God had created the first human pair,

no dangers threatened them in Paradise. Neitherthe elements of nature, nor wild animals, norclimate, nor any disease, exposed them to any

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risks. All Paradise was with them. It was alto-

gether pleasure without burden. At one pointonly they were in danger. That was their spiritual

estate. In this they were vulnerable. If the soulfell down they were gone ; unless God saved them,they were gone forever.

The curse, which came upon the earth imme-diately after they had fallen, showed at once thatpandemonium had been let loose against them,and that the whole creation, as it were, had enteredinto conclave to destroy them. When we thinkhow absolutely helpless these two people stood,almost without clothing and entirely unfortified,

in the face of these unloosed and raving forces of

world and nature, we feel at once that absolutelynothing would have come of them, and that theywould have met death at once, if only in mawof lion or tiger, had not from the side of Godsecret, wondrous grace watched over them.How human life saves itself now need not be

asked. We now face the evil and destructiveforces of nature strongly fortified in every way,and it is an exception when a flood surprises, ahurricane destroys, an epidemic works havoc, orwild animals carry off human victims. But of all

the means of resistance, which are at our disposal,

Adam and Eve had none, and they were but witheach other. This makes it so wonderful that ourrace was not at once destroyed, that it maintaineditself, that it increased and obtained the upperhand. For many centuries indeed after Paradisehad disappeared, man was forced to wage war tothe death with the wild forces of destruction, andto this day the names of a Nimrod and of aHercules are alive in the memory of nations, as

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of heroes who knew how to restrain the monsterof destruction. Most people hve upon their com-mon strength. WeakHngs hve beneath themselves.But there have always been a few, who haveexcelled themselves. And later generations havehonored these heroes as men, who have achievedthe superhuman, and who by efforts born fromalmost superhuman inspiration have left behinda blessing for the entire human race. When dif-

ficulty faced them as a wall, and others remainedstanding before it, thej^ knew how to get over it,

and make a way for those who followed after.

When the fight with the monster of elementsand forces of nature had so far led to victory, thatwith much caution and watchfulness, normalhuman life became possible to a certain extent.

Satan set up men against themselves, and anentirely new struggle was born, even of managainst man. The evil game of Cain and Abel.To despoil each other of goods, to aim at oneanother's life, to subject as slave another to one-self. Now pandemonium no longer of nature,

but of human evil broke loose in the bosom of

humanity itself. The misery that has overtakenour race by this second conflict is nameless. First

lust of robbery and murder among each other of

man against man, of house against house. Andfrom this, war of nation against nation, of peopleagainst people. And then, again, heroes havearisen. Men who excelled others and themselves.

A Samson and David, a Prince William andPrince Maurice. Heroes, who, under high inspira-

tion have broken resistance and have delivered

their people. Again the Wall, against which everyother man dashed his head, but over which they

370

leaped. And thus came about deliverance of thepeople. And thus the names of these heroes areheld in lasting honor. Not by our race as a whole,but by the people whose deliverance they havewrought.Meanwhile a third struggle had begun. Not

against nature, and not against the lust of robberyand murder of a fellowman, but the conflict be-tween the kingdoms of the world and the king-

dom of heaven. The grace of God descending,the light of God inshining, in order to bring thechildren of men to the inheritance of the children

of God. And face to face with this, the power of

Satan, sin and world, to destroy the cause of Godin the earth. And again there have been heroes,

who, excelling others and themselves, have stoodtheir ground where others fainted. Again the wall,

which inexorabl}^ foiled the many, but over whichenthusiastically they leaped. A Noah, an Abra-ham, an Isaiah, presently the martyrs and theApostles, and after them a Luther and a Calvin.Again this same high inspiration. The wall at

last thrown down. And their names held in grate-

ful remembrance, not by a single people, and notby the whole race, but by the generation of all

the children of God. At the center of this con-flict was the Lion from Judah's tribe ; the supremeLeader and Finisher of the faith, the Son of Godand the Son of Man, the vanquisher of death in

his glorious resurrection. Here God in him, hehimself God, and therefore the wall of sin anddeath forever demolished b}' him, and the wayopened to everlasting peace.

Now consider our struggle. It is threefold.

There is the struggle against the forces of nature

in sickness and in threatening destruction; thestruggle for existence and a living. The struggleagainst our fellowmen, when they do us wrong,slander us and threaten our rights and liberties.

And thirdly the struggle against the powers of

Satan, sin and the world, in behalf of God'sglory, the cause of the Lord, and the soul's sal-

vation. From the combination of these threepowers that are arrayed against us spring all ourwoes and miseries, all our sorrows and anxieties.

Man has a struggle on earth. It is not equallysevere in every case, but it frequentlj^ appearsthat with some individuals it is a struggle against

hellish powers. In the face of it one standscowardly and powerless; larger numbers struggle

with little more than ordinary effort; but there

are always a few who face the fight with the

uncommon courage of heroes and they triumphby faith. Again the wall; before which others

falter but over which they know how to leap.

They do it with their God and in his Name, andleave a blessing behind them for all their houseand times.

What is the secret of the courage and power that

overcomes in the case of these heroes and hero-ines? Of course they excelled themselves, that is

to say, they knew how to apply a power of will,

which reall}'' far outreached their own strength.

This high power comes not from without, but fromwithin; from their fixed heart, from their soul

taking hold of itself, from the spirit that is in

them. By comparison one perceives somethingof this high tension in the man who runs amuck,in the drunkard, in the insane, in the man who is

carried away by his passion. Everyone runs out

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of the way of him who runs amuck, because it is

kno^vll that no one can face him. He is thrownby a shot from a gun. Three officers of pohceare unable sometimes to overpower a subject of

delirium tremens. It takes the straight-jacket at

times to render insane people powerless, whichshows what gigantic strength they are able todevelop. And in a fit of passion many an excitedperson has withstood three men and thrown them.All these are exhibits of human misery, but in

every one of them, there is gigantic developmentof strength, because a something within was ableto cause such tension of spirit, and through their

spirit of their muscles, as passes all measure.But even as such muscular tension can spring

from evil excitement and overe?:ertion of thespirit, so by an inner tension of the Holy Spirit

the soul can double its strength, yea, increase it

threefold times. Not from human miserj' this

time, but from sacred exaltation for the sake of

resisting human woe. Then there is the wallagain. The wall of injustice perpetrated againstus, of trouble that overwhelms us, of sorrow thatcan not be borne, of opposition that threatensto undo us, of sin that aims at our descent into

hell. A wall that must be demolished, or brokenthrough, except we be lost Then heroic couragemust show itself. Not that of wild, ungovernabletension, but the pure, calm, persistent courage of

the hero, who never gives in, and in God's strengthovercomes. Then we make true for ourselves whatthe Psalmist sang (18:29): "By my God have I

leaped over a wall." And "by my God" does notmean to say by the help of God, or by a Divinemiracle, but it signifies: With God in mv heart,

through this highest inspiration, which the inwork-ing of the Holy Ghost alone can bring about in

mj^ soul, I know that it is God's will, and that it

must be done And then it is, if you like, amiracle, for then you do and suffer that whichfar supersedes your own strength. But the wallyields, it breaks, and j'ou leap over. And on theother side of it you kneel down to ascribe praise

and honor to him who has enabled j'ou to do thesuperhuman.

70

''MINE EYES ARE EVER TOWARDTHE LORD."

In the Te Deum the church sings: "To Theeall angels cry aloud: ... To Thee Cherubimand Seraphim: continually do cry. Holy, Holy,Holy: Lord God of Sabaoth; Heaven and earthare full of the Majesty of thy glory." Contin-ually, i. e. without ceasing, without pauses, alwaysthe never-ending ascent of the hymn of praise

from angelic choirs before God. This unbroken,continuous, unchanging and fixed permanency of

things is the peculiar characteristic of the worldbefore God's throne. In the house of the Fatherthere is no time, but eternity, and therefore thereis no breaking down of life in a night, no tran-

sition from morning to midday, but it remainseternal morning. There is no standing still andbeginning again. No stopping and resuming. Nointermezzo of rest or relaxation. But life, everspringing up and coming back to itself, withoutwaste of power, and consequently without need of

change. There is no more development, hencetransition from one condition into another is im-thinkable. No break or disturbance mars the ful-

374

ness of the blessedness which is eternal, andtherefore the word "continually" in the TeDeum expresses admirably the characteristic of

the super-earthly, of what is devoted to God, eventhe kingdom of heaven.

It sounds paradoxical to us, when the apostle

exhorts us to: "Pray without ceasing," or to:

"Rejoice evermore," or to hear the Psalmist say:

'I have set the Lord always before me" (Ps.l6:8),

"Nevertheless I am continually with thee" (Ps. 73:

23), "Mine eyes are ever toward the Lord" (Ps.2o:^

15), but in connection with this unbroken note of

the higher life, he who is no stranger to the secret

walk with God, feels the sacred stress of this

"continually," "without ceasing," and "at all

times." For "continually" sometimes means:"Now and then." A nurse in the hospital contin-

ually makes the round of her patients. But such

is not the meaning here. When the Psalmist

sings: "Mine eyes are ever toward the Lord," the

word in Hebrew does not mean "now and then,"

but "always and without ceasing." It means to

say : "The eyes of my soul are never turned awayfrom God, but are always looking toward myFather who is in heaven." It means that in our

secret walk with God we do not bring God downinto time, but allow God to lift us up into the

eternal. Secret fellowship with God is the fore-

taste of the heavenly. It is not a musical instru-

ment from which tones are elicited from time to

time, and meanwhile remains closed, but a self-

playing organ that but waits for our ears to hear

its heavenly melodies.

Do not say, that prayer without ceasing, always

to be blessed in God, alwaj^s to be looking unto

the Lord, to set him always before you, and tofix your eyes ever upon him, is simply impossible,because from the nature of the case, human life,

surroundings, business cares and daily duties for-

bid it. For in this sense both David and Paulknew well that life is not ceaseless devotion andthe world no monastery cell. But it was notmeant this way by either Psalmist or Apostle.There are moments when on our knees we arealone with God and pray. There are momentswhen we retire to some secluded spot, in order tolose ourselves in thinking on God. There aremoments when we sh^ke ourselves free from everycare and consideration of this life, in order toengage ourselves solely and alone with the thingsof the hidden life. It must be confessed that for

first beginners this is about the only form in whichthey can imagine prayer, fellowship with God, andlooking unto him, to be possible. Life to them is

still divided into two parts. A life without God,broadly extending itself in the world, and along-side of this and apart from the world an exceed-ingly limited life with God. They have graspedsomething of the kingdom of heaven, but the life

of the world is still the real life to them, and asan oasis in the wilderness of this worldly life,

there are moments in which they devote them-selves to God. And as long as such is the case,

of course, prayer without ceasing, rejoicing ever-more, and continual abiding with God, is impos-sible. For then there is no indwelling in God,but dwelling in the world, in order to go out fromit now and then for a few moments of interviewwith God. Then prayer is brief. Thought of

God is momentary. Presently it ends. Eyes open

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again to the world, in the life of which the rest

of the day is spent. Such is the existence of

him who out of every twenty-four hours of theday spends eight in bed, more than fifteen in theworld, and altogether scarcely half an hour withGod. He has often tried to retire half an hourfor prayer and sacred meditation, but life is toobusy, it rushes on relentlessly, and even in

moments of seclusion thoughts wander too far

afield for serious concentration on holy things.

And under the spell of disappointment the effort

is all too readily abandoned.Continuous, unbroken, unceasing fellowship with

God does not depend upon thought, and can notbe reached by the will, but springs of itself fromthe inner motion of the heart. If the body is thetemple of the Holy Ghost, as we believe, so thatGod dwells in us, God's nearness to us and ournearness to him takes place of itself, whether wethink of it or not. God, the Holy Ghost, doesnot come into the heart, presently to leave it

again. There is indwelling. There is a comingonce, in order to abide with us forever. And evenwhen we do not pray, or know not how to prayas we ought, God, the Holy Ghost, prays in uswith unutterable groanings. The mother keepswatch by the bedside of her new-born babe, eventhough the babe has no sense of it whatever.Hence the question only is, whether the innerdisposition of the heart attains gradually thatsanctification, that opening up to Divine things,whereby we begin to feel and to perceive whatgoes on in the secret chambers of our heart.At first we live outside of the heart, and isolated,

it floats as a drop of oil on the waters of life.

377

But gradually there comes a disclosing- We beginto live a little more with and in our own heart.

And when we enter our heart sufficiently deeply,we find there God, the Holy Ghost, who has com-passion on us. This of itself brings us to a life

of two phases; one outward and the other inward.But though at first these two are strangers to

one another, they gradually approach each other,

mingle together and permeate each other, until

the point is reached when the inner life lends its

glow to all the outward existence, and when,not the clearly conscious, but the fellowship whichis apprehended with the tentacles of the soul,

progresses more and more unceasingly.

This is at first pure, sacred mysticism, andnothing more. But it does not keep itself at this.

Unconsciously, the eye of the soul begins slowlyto discover the clear reality that God dwells notonly in the heart, but that in the outward life one\'ery side he is the omnipresent, the all-directing,

Almighty and the all-provident Worker. And so

we begin to have an eye for God, who in all things,

and b}^ and through all things, presses upon us.

The note which arises from the depths of the

heart is echoed by all of the life in which we ful-

fil our calling. That which formerly drew us awaj'

from God in that life and threw us back uponourselves, now begins with wondrous allurements

to draw us more and more closely to God. Andnot by reasoning, not with outspoken thought, butin the immediate sensation of the life of the soul

itself God begins both inwardly and outwardlyto open the eye to his Majesty. It is true, sin

works interruptions again. But sin never rouses

hatred against itself more strongly in the heart

378

than when again and again it throws distractive

discord into the harmonj' of the Psalm of hfe.

And to break with sin, and to lose self again in

worship and blessed fellowship becomes of itself

the rising impulse of the heart.

71

"THY OVERSIGHT HATH PRESERVEDMY SPIRIT."

The spirit within us is that by which we live.

It is at the same time our breath of life and ourspiritual inner self. The spirit is what we are

above and besides the body. It is that whieh hasbeen breathed into the ''unformed lump" to makeus man, to make us live as man, to make us aperson among the children of men. "To yield upthe spirit," as a rule, is nothing but to die, tobreathe out the breath of life. When on the otherhand the apostle says, that no man knoweth thethings of a man, save the spirit of man which is

in him (I Cor. 2:11), the word "spirit" indicatesour conscious ego, our spiritual^ existence as man,our inner personality.

Although this seems to be something entirely

different, in Holy Writ the breath of life, thespirit which we yield up in d3'ing is never sep-arated from our spiritual existence. Both our life

and our person are expressed by "spirit," and bothare called "our soul." When the Psalmist cried:"0 Lord, deliver my soul," or rejoices: "Thou,Lord, hast delivered my soul from death," it refersin Psalm 116 to the saving of life, to deliverancefrom danger, and not to spiritual redemption.But our inner spiritual existence is also called oursoul. "As the hart panteth after the water brooks,

379

so panteth my soul after thee, God. My soulthirsteth for God, for the living God" (Psalm 42).

In verse 4: "I remember these things and pourout my soul in me." Again: "Why art thou cast

down, O my soul, and why art thou disquietedwithin me." The Scripture makes no distinction

between our life and our spirit. In God's wordour life and our spiritual existence are one. InParadise God forms man from the dust of theearth. But the material form is not man. Heonly comes into being when God breathes life

into it. Then there is life, then there is humanlife; and there is no human life except as utter-

ance of the life of a soul; and there is no life of

a soul apart from an ego, a person, a spiritual

being that hides in our heart. Any man cansully this spiritual existence in himself, can sin it

away, corrupt it, but he can not shake it off, norlay it aside. Death does not annihilate it. It

abides, it continues to exist, even with the lost in

the place of perdition.

Man's spirit is his real self. All the rest is butthe house, the tabernacle, as the Apostle calls it.

The real, essential man is the spirit that dwells

in this tabernacle. The spirit in us is our ego,

our person, including our disposition, character,

consciousness, feeling, will powers, gifts and tal-

ents; in brief, everything that forms our inner

existence, constituting a particular being, bearing

a particular stamp, and expressing itself in a par-

ticular character. In Scripture it is always the

same antithesis. In Paradise it is the form whichis made of dust and the spirit which God breathes

into it. In Psalm 139 it is the unformed sub-

stance which, as a piece of embroidery, is curi-

S80

ously wrought, and in addition to this the egothat was made in secret. And in Job 10:9-12:

''Thou hast made me as the clay; Thou hastpoured me out as milk, and curdled me Ukecheese. Thou hast clothed me with skin andflesh, and hast fenced (crocheted) me with bonesand sinews," and over and above all this "Thouhast given me life," i. e. my spirit. What is

visible, and tangible, comes first, and into this

enters the invisible, that which exists in the secret

places of the heart, and that is our spirit. AndGod does not abandon the spirit within us toitself. It remains in his hand. It is ever underhis care. He watches over it. He has the super-vision of it. And regarding this Job declares:

"Thy oversight hath preserved my spirit" (Job10:12 Dutch version. See Marg. read. R. V.)At first we know nothing of this Divine over-

sight of our spirit. The infant in the cradle is

utterly unconscious of mother's care. The sick

man in his slumber is not aware of the nurse athis bedside. Only when in later years the eye ofthe soul is opened to the supervision and faith-

fulness of God, we become slowly conscious of

this Divine oversight of our spirit. Provisionallyit is the discovery of the heavenly Father's super-vision with respect to our outward life, and thenonly on special occasions, when, for instance, wehave been delivered from sudden danger. We areunder the impression that life goes on of itself,

and that only in particular instances God con-siders and looks after us. For many years prayerand thanksgiving assume a warmer and more per-sonal character only in moments of special needor anxiety. The larger part of life is spent before

381

the calm and blessed feeling of assurance takeshold of us, that bj^ day and by night, in ordinaryand in extraordinary circumstances we are watchedover, cared for and looked after by God.We also come to discover that the inner life of

our soul is in God's hand. That he has charge of

it That his care is constantly at work in it.

That he has continual oversight of it. This dis-

covery arises first in the conscience. He who hasoversight not only takes care but also looks out,

examines, estimates values, exercises authority andpower, praises or blames. This aspect of God'soversight of us is the first that comes to ournotice. As a rule this happens after a wrong hasbeen done, when we are painfully conscious of

Divine displeasure. Then we learn that God hasthe oversight of us, that he regards the least sig-

nificant of our acts, and that in everything heexercises care over our entire person, over whatwe do and leave undone, over our inclinations anddesires, over our thoughts and words, yea, evenover the impulses of our imagination.And when it has come to this, we know two

things. First, that God has the supervision of

our lot in life, of our adversity and prosperity, of

everything that happens to us, and that there is

a line drawn through our life which binds ourpresent to our past, and leads the present into thefuture. We then know that we are creatures of

God, that we are his possession, his property;that he disposes of us and not we of ourselves;

that the plan of our life has been drawn by God;and that the course of life is in full accord withit. But, secondly, we also know, that in our innerlife we are not our own lord and master, but that

382

our moral existence as man is constantly underthe supervision of this selfsame God, who judgesus at the bar of our own conscience, as often as

we go contrary to his holy will.

And from these two there arises graduallj^ the

still higher sense, that "God's oversight of ourspirit" bears not only an admonishing and a

judicial character, but also that of faithful care,

which we learn to adore in our lot in life. Thesoul perceives that God not merely spies our inner

existence in order to estimate it, but that he is

continually active in it, that he constantly culti-

vates it, and ceaselessly devotes his care to it.

The apostle delineates this in the image of anhusbandman who guards the crops that grow in

the field which he has cultivated and sown. Thusour soul is as a garden of the Lord, in which his

plantings germinate and bloom, which he fosters

by his sun, which he waters with his dew, whichhe weeds and protects, and in which he causes

fruit to ripen.

We train the soul ourselves. Good and evil

influences affect us equally from the world of menand spirits. But the constant activity of God in

the soul bears a far more significant character.

Though we do not observe it, God always hasaccess to our hearts. Even in our sleep he comes\o us, in order to operate upon our inner life.

He prepares in us the powers which we presently

shall need. He disposes and orders in us the

powers which must be applied to a given end.

He is even now busy in preparing in us what is

to show itself in us ten or more years after. In

the inner hfe of the soul nothing escapes him;sensations, tendencies, rising feelings, everything

is under his holy supervision. He revives in uswhat is ready to languish. He bends straight inus what threatens to become crooked. And as amother cares for her babe in outward things, sodoes our faithful Father provide against everydifficulty and every need of our soul.

This is a work of God, which began in hiscouncil, which was reckoned with in our ancestors,which from the cradle has been accomplished inus, and never ceases all the days and nights of

our lives. A work of God upon the soul, whichgoes on when we are alone, and when we minglewith the multitudes; which does not desist wlulewe are at work, and which, with a firm hand, is

directed to what God has determined by himselfto make of us now and forever. Our own planregarding our development and the formation of

character, as a rule does not extend further thanthis brief life, but *'God's supervision of our spirit"

extends to all eternities, while it prepares in ushere, what will only unfold itself on the otherside of the grave.

This "oversight of God" is both guardianshipand training. It is the work of the Supreme Artist,

in preparing from the life of your soul an orna-ment for the house of the Father above. Thisactivity of God upon and in the soul, this Divineoversight of our spirit can be resisted, wherebythe Holy Spirit is grieved. But as workers to-

gether with God we can do our part. This is theaim of the sacred impulse of childship, ever seek-ing strength in the humble prayer of Psalm 138:

"Forsake not what Thy hand began,O, Source of Life,

Grant Thy assistance."

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72

'EVERY ONE WHICH SEETH THE SON."

The one thing of all others among men is tobelieve on Christ. The Scripture announces in

every way that God has given his only begottenson, that whosoever believeth in him should notperish, but have everlasting life. To this is addedwith equal emphasis that he that believeth notthe Son shall not see life; but the wrath of Godabideth on him (St. John 3:16, 36). When askedwhat the great work is, which we have to do in

obedience to God, Jesus answered: The work of

God which ye have to do, is, to believe in me.Faith in Christ shall once bring abcut the division

in eternity, and this same faith leads to decision

here on earth. Not a certain general religiousness,

not personal pious inclination, and not a general

faith on God, but solely and very definitely faith

in Jesus, in its presence or absence, determineseternal destiny, and decides the question alreadyhere below whether one belongs to the flock of theGood Shepherd, or whether he stands outside of it.

The whole Gospel hinges on this faith. Theentire Revelation of God—read it in Heb. XI

—

from the days of Paradise was directed to this

faith in Christ. The sola fide, through faith alone,

is still in another sense than that in which Lutherused it, the fundamental thesis of all higherhuman life. There are also all sorts of othermarks and signs and utterances of soul and rela-

tionships among men which indicate anothertendency in our life, or which can impart anothertendency to it. And all this can have worth andsignificance, but only in a small circle, for a

385

limited time and in a given measure. Sympathy,inclination, preference, affection, all blossom withsilvery blossoms, but never dominate all of life,

do not change the ground of existence, and haveno all-deciding and ever-abiding results. Faith in

the Son of God stands far above eveiything else

that flourishes in the world and acts as a unitingand inspiring factor among men. All other thingsare in part, lack the deep fulness of life, and are

as the grass that flourishes, and when the windpasses over it, withers. What alone remains as

foundation of the inner life, what gives the toneto life and forever guarantees life in endless un-folding, is faith in the only begotten Son of theFather, or as it was said in the prison at Philippi:

"Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt

be saved." This is the all-embracing, all-permeat-ing, and in itself complete and perfect happiness,that endures unto the eternal morning.We need not consider here what this faith is,

how it operates, wherein it consists. It is amystery which the church of Christ has tried

again and again to express in words, but whichshe has never been able to state in all its fulness

and in so many words, so as to exclude all mis-understanding. When the church outlined faith

too distinctly it led to cold and barren intellec-

tualism without spiritual fervor; when she enteredmore deeply into the mystery of the hidden life

of the heart, she frequently crowned a scorchingmysticism, which presently volatilized in excite-

ment. But the sum and substance of it alwayswas, that a lost world, an undone human heart,

cried out for deliverance, and that age upon ageall human ingenuity, heroism, and tender compas-

sion had tried to provide it, but in vain, until at

length God brought it. He imparted it, not in

the form of a gift, but in a most holy person;who was not one taken from among us^ but onewho came down from heaven ; and not as an angel,

which as God's servant and our helper stands out-side of both Divine and human natures, but as

one sent from heaven and come down to us as theonly begotten Son of the Father, who havingentered into our nature, brought God himself toour view. "Philip, he that hath seen me hathseen the Father; and how sayeth thou then, showus the Father" (John 14:9)

And therefore faith in Christ can never be any-thing else than the highest, the one and onlything. When God gives himself in Christ to theworld, and enters so fully into our human life

that this Son takes our nature upon himself, thatthe Word becomes flesh, which angels hail asImmanuel, God with us, the absolute and in itself

complete revelation of Divine compassion hascome to us. Hence it can neither go higher norfarther, since the end of what is eternally com-plete in itself has been reached. Nothing there-

fore transcends faith in Christ. Nothing can beplaced by the side of it. There is nothing withwhich it can be compared. It transcends all

human thought. It can neither be substituted norexcelled by anything else. Faith in Christ bringssalvation, or there is none; without Christ thereis no salvation for the lost world or for the heartthat in itself is lost.

For the rising of this star of faith in the life of

the soul Jesus demands an act on the part of the

soul. Not, as is self-evident, that any action of

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the soul can ever create faith in Christ, produceit, imprint and implant it. The seed of faith is aDivine sowing. Faith in Jesus is as much a gift

as Christ himself is. Faith is a work of Divinecompassion, wrought by the Holy Ghost. But all

faith in Christ has this peculiarity and necessity,

that it must be taken up into the consciousness,

and that therefore it enters into the consciousness

with irresistible power. Faith enters in as a sen-

sation, as an impelling force, as an inspiring prin-

ciple, and as a power which governs and changesall of life. And in behalf of our consciousnessfaith is bound to obtain a content, a form, anappearance. It brings also emotions with it, evenunspeakable emotions of uncommon power. Butabove and outside of all this, it also has an intel-

lectual content, which needs to be understood, acontent which fills itself with what we know fromthe sacred Revelation, of the person of the Sonof God, of his life on earth, of his works, of his

words, of his sitting at God's right hand, and of

his continued activity from heaven. This is whatis learned by heart; there is memory work in it;

memory of names, facts, conversations; memoryof words and deeds, mortal sufferings and glorious

resurrection. Only memory does not cherish faith.

Ideas and faith are not essentially one. Learningignites no glow in faith. And therefore Jesusdeclares, that in order to become ever clearer,

stronger and more inspiring, the one thing faith

needs is, that you see the Son of God. ''Every-

one which seeth the son, and believeth on him,has everlasting life" (St. John 6:40). This seeing

of the Son of God alone brings the rapture of

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soul, which maintains the glow of faith and makesit to burn brightly.

The entire content of the memory must be

reduced from the memory to the unity of the

image of the Son of God. It must all be united

and brought together, in order to portray this

image in sacred purity to the eye of the soul.

And where this image makes itself perfect in you,

all inner pressure and sensation and all holy

emotion must fuse with this image in you, that

you may enjoy it. This living image of the Sonof God must impress you, and attract you, mustnot let go of you, must engage you and bring youinto sacred ecstacy. Not as a knowing after the

flesh. It must be a spiritual vision, but always

such that the name of Jesus passes over into the

person of the Christ, and that from the person of

Christ the inner Divine being takes hold of youand with magnetic power attracts you. No glori-

fication of Jesus, as in the days of Feith and VanAlphen, which brings the words to the lips: "Oh,

were Jesus still on earth, at once I'd hasten to

him." That would be the descent from the high

to the low. The spiritual vision, the soul's seeing

of the Son of God stands incomparably higher

than what the disciples have ever seen and handled

in Jesus' person on earth.

The Apostle knows the Savior far better than

the disciple has ever kno^vn him. The Ascension

has not impoverished, but enriched us. And the

seeing of the only begotten Son of the Father

which nurses the faith, feeds and every time re-

freshes it again, is such conscious fellowship of

soul with the Lord of glory, that in and through

him, the Eternal Being himself is reached, and,

spiritually seeing the son with the eyes of thesoul, the child of God knows himself to be onewith the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost.Hear the petition in the high priestly prayer:"Holy Father, I pray thee, that they all may beone, as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, thatthey also may be one in us; that the world maybelieve that thou hast sent me" (St. John 17:21).

7S

"MY FOOT STANDETH IN AN EVENPLACE."

"My foot standeth in an even place," has athreefold significance. It is the expression of

satisfaction on the part of the Sunday-child. It

is the cry of relief on the part of him who hasstruggled hard and bitterly to succeed. It is thecalm utterance of higher peace on the part of himwho believes.

The imagery of the Psalmist is clear. A roadcan bear a twofold character. It can be smoothand even as a skittle ground, or macadam streets

in cities and towns; or it can be like what we find

in mountainous districts, where steep descents andascents are common and the unevenness of thepath brings weariness. With us, a stretch of sandyor muddy road may retard travel, but in the mainour roads are even from north to south, so thatno image could be derived from them for thepathway of our life. A way may seem long to us,

it may be lonely, or it may repel us by its filthi-

ness, but all this does not offer the antithesis

which level road and mountain path present.

The Scripture, on the other hand, originated in

S90

a mountainous country. The Psalmists have dweltand wandered in the mountains. Of itself, there-fore, their fertile minds would borrow imagesfrom life in the mountains by which to expressthe antitheses of life. And so the easy walk, witha light step, on a smooth, straight and even roadsuggested of itself to them the image of a life of

which we would say, in the language of a sailor,

that ''everything went before the wind." On theother hand, the exertion, which makes even breath-ing difficult on the way where there is for hourstogether a steep, downward grade and then for

hours again the grade is equally steep upward,presented quite as naturally the image of a trav-

eler of whom the Dutch people would say againin terms of the sea: "He can scarcely keephis head above water." Hence in the expression:"My foot standeth in an even place," the self-

sufficiency can assert itself of the man who hassucceeded in everything he undertook, who hasnever known real adversity, and who, weaned fromcarking care, has never seen anything but sunshineon the pathway of his life.

These words, however, imply much more whenthey become the confession of a man who, dis-

appointed every time, and foiled, saw all his efforts

end in failure, but who kept on trying, would notgive up, now fell and again climbed the steepmountain side, until at length the point wasreached where the straight road through the high-land stretched out itself before his feet, and pros-perity began, imparting to him a happy existenceunder the fulfilment of his ideals.

But the phrase: "My foot standeth in an evenplace," attains its greatest fullness of meaning

391

when it becomes the expression of that assur-ance of faith, which with spiritual elasticity, knowshow to overcome every difficulty of life on earth,

and now proclaims with Habakkuk (3:17):''Although the fig tree shall not blossom, neithershall fruit be in the vines; and there shall be noherd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord,I will joy in the God of my salvation."

Let the ''Sunday-child," as the man is called

who has never known reverses, be on his guard.A life without cares, without troubles, withoutsorrows and disappointments, easily spoils one.

Optimism undoubtedly cultivates a happy state

of mind, but it lacks power to strengthen char-

acter, to practice elasticity and to stretch it, andto become richer in noble treasures of the mind.But this is not the worst of it. It is far worsethat the "Sunday-child" is so prone to attribute

his good fortune to himself and to think that

they who vainly struggle, owe their misfortunesto their simplemindedness. He is the man whoalways has good insight, and a correct estimate of

things. Others allowed the right moment to goby unimproved. He was always ready to act at

the proper time. And so his self-esteem increases,

which cultivates his pride, and chokes pity for

the sorrows and adversities of others. Or, in case

such a child of fortune is still somewhat relig-

iously inclined, he is easily tempted to regardhimself as a special favorite of God, whose path-way, by reason of this Divine preference, wasalways smooth, and he lives in the expectationthat in the providence of God his lot in life will

be prosperous to the end. And so it goes on withgrowing conceit in the idea of one's own superi-

392

ority and of being a privileged character, until

there comes a turn in life, and the sun goes hidingbehind the clouds. Then everything collapses at

once. Then there is no power of resistance. Thenthere is no disciplined strength. Then there is

nothing to hold him up and to enable him to copewith his difficulties. And in the end he is lost in

self-perplexity, having neither courage to live norhope for the future.

This is entirely different with a man who is

beset with difficulties. Every new year of his hfebrought him new troubles in the face of which to

maintain himself. With one it was the struggle

for existence with honor both of himself andfamily, to be successful in his calling and to

accomplish what he began. With another it wasa struggle against slander and envy. With a third

it was a struggle for the sake of his conviction,

of his views, and of obtaining an entrance for his

ideas. Again, it was an endless struggle withimpaired health. And again it was sorrow; trouble

because of a child that brought disappointment,or grievous affliction in the loss of a child or abeloved wife by death. And though there are

cases where such troubled times give place to

sunnier days, there are others where literally for

many years it is one constant struggle withanxiety, with never-ending disappointment, withno outlook upon relief. This frequently brings

the bitter result that gloomy melancholy settles

upon the heart; that irascible thoughts acquire

the upper hand; and that haunted by the idea

that every opportunity of life is lost, the struggle

is abandoned, and emptied of will and courage,

the days are pined away in ever deepening gloom.

393

But there have always been others who havepersevered, who would not give up, who did notabandon hope, and who by great pov/er of will

reached the point, where they could breathe again,

and opposition seemed broken. And thanks tothe practice acquired in the struggle, they putforth a final, giant effort. And, indeed, theyovercame. Now they were through. Now betterdays began. And with an inexpressible feeling of

blessedness, as far as this earthly life can bringit, they exclaimed in a very different way: ''Godbe praised, my foot standeth in an even place."

If this is already glorious, there is still a higherviewpoint. There are times when one can notrow up against the stream of the ills of life.

These can take hold of one's life so deeply as to

continue with him unto the grave. Even he whois most grievously afllicted has no guarantee thatbetter days will come. An outcome such as Jobobtained, to no one is assured. It may please

God to glorify the majestic grace of faith in alife, on which the sun of happiness has nevershone. For poor Lazarus the hour of jo}'- onlycame when he was carried by angels into Abra-ham's bosom. We have no right to anything;and he who is no stranger to the knowledge of

his sin will not demand from God happiness ordeliverance out of trouble. He may pray for it

and supplicate for it, but it always is: "Father,if this cup can not pass from me; not my will,

but thine be donel"But this is the glory, that wondrous faith not

only reveals its power when suffering is turnedinto joy, but also, and even more, in suffering

itself, and most of all when the sorrow accom-

394

panies us to the grave, and the cross casts its

shadow across our path to the end. For this is

the glory of faith, that it discloses another, abetter way to us, a way on the heights of themountain of God's holiness, which excels the waysof our earthly life, and dissolves all our sorrow,

misery and affliction of soul in an higher vision.

This way of faith passes not under the cloudwhich prevents the sun from shining on our path.

He who travels this path has the clouds underhim, and enjoys the free shining of the sun of

grace. And then whether things in life succeedor fail, whether the struggle must be begun anew,or whether at last the struggle against what theworld calls fate, is too much for him—in pleasure

and distress, in sorrow and in joy, in prosperity

and in adversity—the soul maintains its equipoise,

the heart remains strong and fixed, and glorying

in faith he says: Whatever be my lot, my foot

standeth in an even place, which through faith,

God has disclosed to me.

74

"AN ABUNDANT REFRESHING."Life in the world above bears an entirely dif-

ferent aspect from life on earth. In the realm of

glor3^ is no sin, and consequently jqo redemption;no misery and therefore no deliverance. Neithercan there be the transition from doubt to faith,

from weakness to strength, from grief to comfort.

In brief, all that by sin and misery brings con-

stant changes, disturbance, transition, restoration

and higher exaltation in our life on earth, is ex-

cluded from the life eternal.

This process of continuous change was foreign

395

to life in Paradise, and when sin came in, Para-dise was gone, and the curse overtook our earthly-

existence. Not as though deadly monotony pre-vailed in Paradise, or that in heaven the absenceof all change about God's throne would occasiona somber pall to darken the life of the blessed.

Without endless distinction no higher life is think-able, and that richer unfolding of life before thethrone of God shall once exceed and excel every-thing that we have known as higher developmentof life on earth or have dreamed of in poeticfancy.

But life in the hereafter can not be measuredby the standards of this life. It is of a different

sort. It bears a different character. It obeys adifferent law. It interests and charms the sensesby an entirely different beauty, wealth and enjoy-ment. On this very account it always is to be anobject of faith and hope, and does not lend itself

to forecasting in this life. And though Scripturemay employ images from the earthly by which to

convey to us an impression of the heavenly, every-one feels that the fat full of marrow and unmixedwine of the marriage-feast of the Lamb serve ex-

clusively to waken the sensation of festal joy,

and are by no means intended to indicate whereinthis heavenly delight shall consist. It hath not yetbeen revealed what we shall be. It is enough for

us to know that it will be a life in endless joyand glory. But how this joy shall once disclose

itself to us, and in what form it will present itself,

faith leaves with God. And all that the souls of

God's children can desire, in expectation of this

glory, centers itself in the Father who is in

heaven and his son Jesus Christ.

Here on earth sin characterizes all of life. It

does this by no means merely in the sense, that

sin is continuously committed night and day, andthat sin occasions ruin, but rather in this sense

that sin breaks human life, constantly removes its

supports and makes them change, and makes theway of life not straight, but restlessly to go upand down; now through deep places, again across

heights, now through light, then through dark-ness; now marked by laughter, then by the weep-ing of those who mourn. That there is pleasure

and pain; joy and sorrow; that there is strength

and health and again weakness and sickness; that

there is birth and death; a carrying to baptismand a carrying out to the grave ; that there is total

exhaustion and revival of strength; that there is

corruption of soul and conversion; that there is

temptation and allurement after Christ; in brief,

that all of life reaches upwards and breaks into

endless antitheses, springs from the one all-

dominant fact of sin.

When it is once fixed in the mind that withoutsin there would be no misery, no sickness and nodeath in the earth, that it is sin which imprints

its stamp of rupture and of healing upon ourentire earthly life, it is exceedingly interesting

for once to picture human existence from the view-point of this rupture. Without sin there wouldbe no judges to pass sentence, no physicians to

heal the sick, no clergy to preach God's Word, noworks of mercy, no church of God in the earth.

It must not be inferred from this, of course, that

this broken life which has burst into all sorts of

differences and antitheses, is the real life. Life in

holy harmony and unbroken unity stands infinitely

397

higher, and shall one day show itself to be ourtrue, real human existence, even as it is this

already for God's angels. But it does follow fromthis that our earthly life must be continuouslytossed and shaken and move ever up and down;and that it becomes richer, more interesting andmore significant in the measure in which we areexposed to stronger tossings, and the up anddown movement of our existence assumes larger

proportions. These tossings in life are unequal.With one they are far more serious and grievousthan with another. There are those who arescarcely ever moved, and who in consequenceknow but little elevation of life. But there areothers who are cast to the bottom of the deepestabyss of suffering, but who as a result can havemost blessed walks on the mountains of God'sholiness.

Of this latter class one is continually the speakerin the Psalms. This accounts on one hand for

the calls from depths of misery and for the com-plaints that bands of death and hell strike terror

to his soul, and on the other hand for the jubilant

exultations on account of deliverance and redemp-tion, which result in the grateful acknowledgment,that God has brought him into a ver}' abundantrefreshing (Ps. 66:12 Dutch version).

Refreshing means the renewal of strength. Afresh team before the wagon means one thatcomes from pasture in the fulness of strength. Afresh corps of troops means a battle array whichhad no part yet at the front but goes out in

unimpaired vigor. So there is refreshing whenyou come out of a period of deadly weariness of

soul, of utter loss of strength, of inner under-

398

milling, so that rejuvenated and renewed in

strength of life you feel by the grace of God thatyou have been, as it were, given back to your-self, in order, as though nothing had ever beenthe matter with you, in full realization of Divinegrace, with renewed courage to take up the battle

of life again. This refreshing can bear a two-fold character. It can be a refreshing from spirit-

ual fainting, but it can also be a refreshing fromdiscouragement with your lot in life. You mayhave been near the valley of the shadow of death,and now you walk again in lovely sunlight, whichillumines all of life. The feeling of oppressionand distress which trouble, adversity, bereave-ment and suffering brings can weigh like a tonupon the heart, and almost crush it. Most peoplenever learn what this means. They, too, drinktheir cup, but to most people by far this cup is

not handed save by measure. They would haveno greatness of soul to endure it. But there havealw^ays been a few, against whose breast the wavesof the bitter lot beat restlessly and unsparinglyand almost so pitilessly, that only their inbornheroic nature protected them by God's gracefrom fainting. Such a period can be long pro-tracted, and the continuance of trouble and suffer-

ing is namelessly exhausting and fatiguing:. Butwhen finally there is a surcease, and sunny daysarrive, and the oil of gladness is given for mourn-ing, it frequently pleases the Lord to impart tosuch a sufferer of the Job-type such unknown joyof life that the song of praise rises from the soul:

''O, my God, Thou hast brought me an abundantrefreshing."

It is more quiet, but still more blessed when

399

this abundant refreshing overtakes us spiritually.

Of course, this only overtakes him who exists

spiritually, who inwardly leads a spiritual life andwho can thirst after God as the hart thirsts after

the water brooks. The many thousands who live

in unconcern, without ever missing fellowship

with God, stand entirely outside of this. Butwhen you are aware of a spiritual life in the soul;

when you know what it is to be initiated in thesecret walk with God; when you have learnedevery morning and every evening to draw real

strength from seeking and finding God; then life

divides itself for you into two sharply contrastedsorts of days: days when rich in God, and living

close to him, you feel the soul within you leapfor joy; and other days, when the heavens seemlike brass, and you are thrown back upon your-self, and nothing but darkness is perceived within,and like lost sheep you feel that you have wan-dered away from God. This may be the result

of committed sin, but it can also be that Godpurposely leads you through darkness, to try yourfaith and to operate on you more deeply withunseen grace. So there may be days, and weeks,and sometimes months that God hides his facefrom you; that no star appears in the dark skyof the soul; and that, feeling yourself forsaken of

God, you mourn within yourself with a sorrowwhich the world neither knows nor understands,but which cuts you sorely through the heart.

But this suffering is only for a time. In theforsakenness you were not forsaken, but God wasoperating on you with a grace, the fruit of whichyou would only recognize and enjoy later on.

And when at length these days of spiritual dark-

400

ness are ended, and light shines forth again, andGod returns to reveal himself to you in the full-

ness of his grace, then for you also there is abun-dant refreshing. And then you perceive and con-fess that had not God led you through this depthof forsakenness, you would never have experiencedsuch deep joy in your soul, as now became yourportion. Only after having led you through this

depth of darkness, was God able to bring you outto such abundant refreshing.

75

"FROM STRENGTH TO STRENGTH."To go from strength to strength is to grow, to

wax strong, to increase. It is not to remain whatwe are, and mostly retrograde. On the contrary it

is to advance, to make progress, to become richer,

fuUer and more abundant in faith, in virtue ofwhich to become richer in godliness and in fruits

meet for repentance.God shows this growth from strength to strength

in plants. When the oak first starts to grow, it

can be bent over with the hand, but when it

obtains size and becomes a full-grown tree, it is

able by its strength to resist the hurricane. Thesame is shown in animals. The young colt whichat first is scarcely able to stand up becomes aftera few years the strong horse, after whose powerman estimates the power of steam, which laughsat the heavily laden wagon, and with rider insaddle leaps over wall and hedge.But God shows this process more beautifully

in our own child. First the helpless babe, whichis fondled on the lap, and has to be carried on thearm. Then the struggle with the difficulties of

learning to walk, until at last it succeeds whenthe ankles have become stronger. And so thegrowth goes on until full maturity is reached;and then there is strength for a hard run, the boldjump, the climb of a steep rock, the defiance of

weariness and fatigue.

All this is material. The growth of oak andhorse, and the growth of the child, with regard tothe body. But this increase of strength is notconfined to the material; from the visible it ex-

tends to the invisible. There is also develop-ment in the human spirit. Development by train-

ing of the artistic talent, which was latent at first,

then made itself known, and gradually becamecapable of mightier utterance. But there is also

development through training, education, and self-

exertion on the part of the thinking spirit to fur-

nish the store-house of memory ever more richly,

to clarify the insight into the world round about,to grasp unity in multiplicity, to feel the relation

between dull reality and high idealism, and thusto stand ever more strongly in spirit and might.Always growing, ever increasing, with the excelsior-

flag around the shoulders climbing the mountainsteeps.

This development from strength to strengthbecomes different, when we pass on from theinvisible in art, and the invisible of the under-standing, to the domain where character unfolds,and the moral man is formed and steeled. Toobtain strength of will and gradually to steel

this will power. To feel the waking up of thesense of honor and to see it come to an everfiner point. To see the bud of fidelity and honestyunfold and blossom ever more beautifully. To

402

observe by the side of sense and love of truththe rise of hatred against falsehood. To becomeever more deeply conscious of the sense of

justice, to see the seriousness of life increase.

0, it all presents the beautiful image of a goingfrom strength to strength in the inner personality.

In body grows the man, in understanding thescholar, in character the person.

But even this does not express the meaning of

going ''from strength to strength" in the song of

the Psalmist. In the child of God there is still

another life; the life of Divine grace. In this

life also there must be advance, growth anddevelopment. Here, too, the law must operate.

Not to remain what we are, but to go on and togo further from strength to strength.

In the world of matter, growth has its measure,its limit. In the acorn it is assigned how highthe oak which springs from it shall be able to lift

itself. At first it sprouts, then grows and gains,

but at last the limit, the measure is reached; andthen the oak may expand in thickness of trunkand breadth of foliage, but there is no more gainin height. Such is the case with animal growth.From being little, it becomes large, expands andbecomes full grown. In the course of a few years,

however, sometimes after only a few months, oreven weeks, the measure of the animal is ex-hausted, and its size remains what it is. The sameapplies to the human form. Far more slowly thananimals man gradually reaches his growth in

height. This takes sometimes twenty and moreyears. But at last the measure here, too, is com-plete. Then there follow changes, fuller strength,and expansion, but he gains no more in height.

403

With old people not infrequently there is shrink-ing and diminution.With the artist also there is a moment in hia

life when he has reached his zenith, and the full-

ness and richness of his expression of art ratherdecreases than gains. In the intellectual domainthere may be a few whose minds at 70 or 80 yearsof age are still fresh and green, and even excel in

depth and wealth of scope—but for by far themost the boundary line is here drawn, beyondwhich there is no more advance, and which indi-

cates the end of development. Only in the domainof morals and of the unfolding of character this

limit by itself can not be shown. Love and con-secration can ever increase. Solidity of charactercan advance in strength even unto death. Andthis claim is imposed upon the child of God. Noreaching of limit here on earth, but always a goingfurther and further. Even until death a goingfrom strength to strength.

But here our misery appears, which alas! ob-trudes itself inexorably even upon the work of

grace. Observe it with yourself, watch it withothers. See it in a child of God, after an absenceof ten or twenty years. For then you ought tosee in him, and he in you, as with eyes, andhandle with hands, the ripe fruit of this ten ortwenty years' work of grace. And is it so? Canit be truly said, that a child of God, who was con-verted in early life, at 60 years of age is ten yearsfarther advanced in grace than he was at 50?Do you feel and observe a doubling in the powerof grace when you meet again at forty years of

age him whom you lost from sight when he wasthirty? Do parents, after the measure of their

404

years, as a rule, stand so much higher? Is theoldest child in the family always farthest advancedin grace? Observe particularly certain defects incharacter, certain well-known weaknesses and little

sins, that showed themselves unpleasantly in achild of God, ten or twenty years ago. Meet-ing such a brother or sister again after this intervalof years, is the change marked as a rule, and is it

observed with joy, that all these unpleasant sins

and defects are gone without leaving any trace?Or is it not rather true that after twenty andmore years you find all too often in your acquaint-ances and friends, yea, in your own children andparents the same limited grace, which youmourned in them before, and this gift of graceas intricately bound up with the same thorns andthistles as before? Moreover, when you consideryourself, and examine your own life before theface of God, are you not bound to confess withshame, that sometimes ten long years have ad-vanced you no single step in spiritual growth, andthat the old weeds still flourish with old-time lux-uriance in the field of the heart within?What is the ordinary course of things? Is it

not that one becomes converted; that after con-version he concentrates his mind and soul on holythings, and in all sorts of ways acts differentlythan before, and that in doing this he becomesconscious of a rupture with his past and the be-ginnings of a new life. At first it is even tooideally strung, so that after a few brief years acalmer state ensues. And this stage of the life ofgrace in most cases becomes permanent. It re-

mains what it is, but growth there is none. Onefeeds on what was gained as spiritual capital in

405

that first period of grace. There is considerableincrease in knowledge, as well as in spiritual ex-perience and in spiritual wisdom, but there is noacquisition of higher strength. Sometimes eventhere is a relapse, which is not survived exceptwith much difficulty. And so there is consider-able satisfaction. There is no striving after higherthings. And one remains what he came to beuntil death.We do not say that this is the case with all.

There are those, thank God, who bum as sliining

lights in the congregation, and who do not ceaseall the days of their lives to drink deeply fromthe cup of grace. But yet how different wouldthe revelation of the kingdom of heaven be amongthe people, if all they who believe, who knowthemselves to be children of God, from the hourof conversion until the day of death, would causethe call of progress to be sounded in the soul.

Who can say what it would be in the heart, in

the home, in the church of God with every one of

us if it were and ever continued to be, an un-interrupted going forward from strength to

strength

!

76

''BLESSED ARE THE PURE IN HEART."

A truly sinless, pure heart is the precious pos-

session in the eyes of a child of God which healways prays for, but which here on earth henever obtains. They who stand outside of the

faith are not considered here. We fully grant

that they value purity of heart. We do not denythat they strive after it. But what they meanby it is something else. For the child of God

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purity of heart is the means of seeing God. Forthe others it is rather the way by which not tofail of high moral character. And these two cannot be mentioned in the same breath.

"Blessed are the pure in heart" is a word of

Jesus, which was purposely spoken to the children of

God, as Matt. 5 :8 clearly shows. For it immediatelyfollows: "Blessed are the peacemakers, for theyshall be called the children of God." And it is

self-evident that the seven beatitudes togetherdeal with the same class of persons. The peace-makers, the pure in heart, they who hunger andthirst after righteousness, they who are poor in

spirit, and so much more, are always that peoplethat puts itself under the guardian-care of Jesusand desire to enter into the kingdom of heavenwhich has come nigh.

Virtuous people, even moral idealists, are notconsidered here. Undoubtedly there is much in

them that must be highly prized with respect tothis earthly hfe. But this is not reckoned withnow. They who have been initiated in the secret

of salvation, they who have passed from theworld into the kingdom of the Son of God's love,alone are here considered. Purity of heart whichleads to seeing God is not anywhere conceivablesave in a child of God.This is not said without a tremor. It is exceed-

ingly difficult to know who is, and who is not, achild of God. There are those who are, but whoscarcely dare to confess it of themselves; andothers appropriate it to themselves who exhibitlittle of its characteristics; while many more onthe other hand make themselves known in away that raises serious doubts whether their con-

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fessed ''childship" is not "stolen goods". But apartfrom this, it is certain, that the most faithful chil-

dren of God are continually engaged in bitter

combat, because there is still so much impurityin their hearts, which every time again is a stain

upon their lives. Even this is not all. It must beconfessed that not infrequently two men or twowomen stand side by side in life, one of whomzealously works for Christ while the other rejects

him, and that, when the test is applied of purityof heart and behavior, the confessor of Jesus is

put to shame by the denier of Christ. This is

grievous for the faith; and is to be mourned withtears. It must not, however, be ignored. Daviddid not do so, neither did St. Paul. "The goodthat I would I do not: but the evil which I

would not, that I do" (Rom. 7:19). And in all

ages this sore battle has been waged in thechurch of Christ. Hypocrites, false brethren,stand outside of this. They are not reckonedwith here. Among true confessors, age on age, thesame complaint has been current. It is evenworked out sometimes into a sinful system of theold and the new Adam, even as Maeterlinck is

doing now from his viewpoint of unbelief. Buthowever it may be experienced, interpreted or ex-

plained, the phenomenon shows itself every time:there is true, sincere confession, there is faith of

the right sort, and with it there is a hopelessstruggle with the impurity of the heart.

To be pure in heart moreover is mostly mis-understood, as though it referred exclusively topurity from sensual sin. The voluptuary is thencalled unclean, the man who drinks to excess, theepicure, the miser, the effeminate. And cer-

408

tainly these gross sins should first of all beabandoned. But he who is free from these ex-

cesses is, therefore, by no means yet pure in heart.

Purity of heart embraces the entire life of the

soul. Pride, arrogance, dishonest practice, anger,

hate, falsehood, and so much more, including evenordinary vanity and self-sufficiency make thewaters of the human heart muddy and unclean.

Whatever does not belong in the heart renders it

unclean. As a pond becomes unclean by whatpassersby throw into it, so the human heart is

defiled by everything that God did not create in

it, but which has entered into it from Satan or

from the world. And the awful part of it is

that already at birth so many germs of impuritywere imparted unto it, which until death are neverwholly lost. That we live in a world whichstrongly furthers the growth of these impurities.

That we mingle with people, who, inwardly

impure, accustom us, so long as it does not lead

to gross excess, to make light of this impurity in

ourselves, and of like impurity in them. Thisweakens our moral sense, our moral judgment,and makes us dream of a pure heart, the whiles

in many points we remain impure of heart.

If Jesus had meant that they only go out free,

who never caught their own heart in any impurethought, inclination or sensation again, this beati-

tude would drive the soul to despair. For no oneis like this. The struggle with impure germs in

the heart continues until death. We make ad-

vances, but only by applying an ever finer test;

by detecting impurity in things which before did

not even suggest the thought of sin to us. Themore we advance in faith, the keener the eye of

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the soul becomes in the discovery of sin, and forthis reason the more we shake ourselves free

from sin, the sense of guilt does not diminish, butrather increases. The world does not understandthis, when it hears an angel of love and mercytouchingly plead for forgiveness of guilt. But byitself there is nothing strange in this.' They whohave far advanced in godly living now discoversin in what before seemed to them perhaps evenvirtue. Jesus knew this, and therefore this cannot have been meant. It does not say: Blessedare they who have a pure heart, a heart withoutsin, but: Blessed are they who are pure of heart.

In the heart the ego dwells, the person acts,

the child of God thinks, ponders, decides andchooses. Hence there is a difference between whatthe self finds in the heart, and what it there ordersand directs. And since no one dwells anywhereelse than in a heart that is inwardly defiled, andfrom which all sorts of poisonous vapors arise, thequestion regarding purity or impurity of heart is

only decided by the question, whether these cor-

rupting tendencies of the heart are regarded withdeep hatred and fiery indignation, or whetherthere is sympathy with them, and they aregranted indulgence by the Will and by the Mind.Frequent failure is not suflficient proof of impur-ity of heart. The question is whether impurity is

resisted, whether it is striven against with all thespiritual power one has at his command, whetherwith the invocation of the help of God and of

his Christ and of his angels, everything thatthreatens defeat is avoided, and the supplication

is continued: "Lead me not into tempation, butdeliver me from evil."

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This alone is the point. In the heart self

must stand pure in battle array against the impiu*-

ities that proceed from the heart. When the dis-

tinction is ignored between the self that believes,

and the inequalities that prevail in the heart, youare lost. For then you identify yourself withthese impurities. Then you sink away in the evil

waters of your own heart and are drowned in

your sinful inclinations.

If, on the other hand, in the inner chambersof your heart you are bold', heroic and determinedin your stand of bitter hatred against your sinful

inclinations, as against your mortal enemy, theheart may remain full of impurities until death,but you are pure of heart, and by God's graceyou triumph again and again over the sin thatattacks you in the heart. Then Satan is not yourtempter, but God is your confederate. Then thestruggle which is never given up brings you thecloser to God, and in the midst of battle thereare moments when with the vision of the eye of

the soul, you see, as it were, your God.

77

"IN THE NIGHT I COMMUNED WITHMINE OWN HEART."

Sleep and prayer have this in common thatboth he who prays and he who sleeps closes his

eyes, and retires from light into darkness. Butthey are not the same. He who prays will close

his eyes, in order not to be distracted by what is

seen around him. If possible he would stop his

ears in order not to be distracted by noises fromwithout. There is also prayer with others towhich other considerations apply. But by itself

one who prays seeks strength in retirement. Thisis expressed in what Jesus told his disciples: ''But

thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet

and shut the door behind thee"(Matth. 6:6). Andhe set us the example, as often as he withdrew him-self for prayer into the solitude of the wilderness,

or into the loneliness of the mountains. Even in

Gethsemane the Lord seeks solitude for his last

agonized prayer, and leaves his disciples at a dis-

tance, that he might pray alone.

Insofar as this expresses a desire for rest andquiet in prayer, it agrees with what we seek in

sleep. But with this the likeness ends. Withprayer we withdraw from the world that in ourfellowship with Almighty God we maj^ be morefully awake to the higher order of things. Insleep, on the other hand, we retire from the world,

in order to lose ourselves in unconsciousness andin forgetfulness of self. At least, such it is, wheneverything is normal. In Paradise it wouldalways have been so. But in stern reality prayerand sleep are continually confused in a two-foldway. They are confused in such a way that

prayer is overtaken by what belongs to sleep, andwhen we lie down to sleep the soul passes into theattitude of prayer. Not as though in prayer manyactually fall asleep. That this happens some-times when prayer is too long, is granted. This,

however, is always exceptional. But what fre-

quently happens is, that he who with others

prays with him who leads in prayer, either allows

his mind to be diverted or unconsciously lets it

rest. And that the night, which was intended for

sleep, frequently ends in prayer, see it in the case

of Asaph, as in Psalm 77 R. V. 2, 5, he complains:

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"My hand was stretched out in the night to myGod in prayer. Thou, Lord, held mine eyes watch-ing. In the night I communed with mine ownheart; and my spirit made diligent search."

When we close our eyes for sleep, or for prayer,

we go out from light, by excluding the same, intodesired darkness. We do this with respect tosleep, that with our spirit we may sink backinto the darkness of unconscious life; and withrespect to prayer, that, shut out from light of

day, we may seek in clearer conciousness thehigher light which shines around the throne of

God.In nature, light is not disturbed by darkness, for

darkness is there of itself, and it is only byincreasing light that darkness is overcome. Atfirst there was no light, but darkness. "The earthwas without form and void and darkness was uponthe face of the deep;" and in that darkness Hghtbroke forth by the creative word of God. Andwhen, later on, darkness again covers the earth,

it does not obtrude upon light from without, butis there of itself, as soon as light withdraws itself.

This is so in the world of matter, and spiritually

it is not otherwise. There was darkness in nature,and so it remained until God created light; andso soon as God withdraws the Ught of sun, moonand stars, darkness returns.

So in the mind of a new-bom child there is

at first entire unconsciousness and ignorance. Thiscontinues until the light of the consciousnessawakens in the soul, and gradually gains in clear-

ness. But this clearness of the consciousness canfade again into darkness. This happens when onefaints, or is hypnotized, in part also with the insane

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and the dotage of old age. The same happensmoreover every night. Sleep is the passing of thelight of our consciousness into the twilight ofslumber, and finally into deep, sound sleep. Atnight the light of day without, and the light of

self-consciousness within, set in darkness and un-consciousness. It may even be said that themore absolutely the light of the self-consciousness

passed out, the better and more healthy wassleep. Not to know anything on waking of theseven hours we slept, is the most normal opera-tion of nature.In paradise, before he fell, the first man slept

like this. So the young child still sleeps at

mother's breast. So the weary day-laborer of

little intelligence in part still sleeps. But suchsleep is no longer the rule. Our sleep is all toofrequently restless, either when physical causes of

sickness or excesses disturb it, or when the mindis too excited to allow the self-consciousness topass into entire forgetfulness. And so we come todreams or to half or entire sleeplessness.

Dreamlife is a dark domain which has been in-

vestigated but little. It is enough that we knowwhat anxiety and agony it can occasion; how in

sinful imagination it can soil the consciousness;how prophecies and premonitions sometimes loomup in it; and also how God has used it more thanonce as a means by which to execute his holyCounsel.Next to dreamlife, however, and more distress-

ing, is the woe of a sleepless night, when cares

keep the heart awake ; when the mind is too muchon a tension; when a task, which awaits us in themorning prevents us from sleep, or when sickness

holds back the passionately longed-for sleep fromour eyes. Sleeplessness is a part of human misery,which is foreign to younger years, but which inlater years few escape.

As in good prayer the mind excludes itself fromthe world, but is the more clearly awake to thehigher world of thought, so it can also be in thedream and in sleepless slumber. In sleep the mindshould sink away in forgetfulness, but on the con-trary it lives the more intensely in terrifying orin holy dreams. And in place of rest the mindfinds in sleepless slumber only a greater tensionand far more pressing and wearing activity. Andthe Lord is also in this. Asaph expressed it withfervent piety: "Thou holdest mine eyes watch-ing."

This spiritual recognition, that it is not chance,but the Lord who holds our eyes waking, showsthat dreamlife and sleepless slumber serve a pur-pose. By means of them the Lord intends to dosomething; and when at night the heart com-munes with itself, and the spirit makes diligent

search, this, too, is a part of our life for whichwe are responsible. Sin consists not only ofwords and deeds, but also in thoughts, also inwhat goes on in the mind. We are responsibleeven for our dreams. Not for what happens tous in our dreams, but for what we do in them.We do not all have the same dreams. Every onedreams according to the content of his imagina-tion. And however little we may be lord andmaster over our dreams, every one feels, that incase our Savior has known a dreamlife, it cannot have been otherwise than perfectly holy. Inthe night itself we can not make the dream dif-

415

ferent from what it is, but purifying our imagina-tion and cleansing our thoughts will in time trans-port our dreams into sinless domains.Our responsibility for what our mind does in

sleepless hours of night is of necessity far greater.For in the darkness of night our spirit can invitethe world, or it can meditate and ponder on holythings. It can also toss itself about in us with-out will and without aim. What our spirit thenmust do in the darkness, is to open the door toholy things and dwell in a higher world. Evenwhen in the midst of sleep there is a quarter ofan hour of wakefulness the mind can and shouldengage itself with God. The first thought onawaking must be again of God. "0 God, Thouart my God: early in the morning will I seekThee" (Ps. 63:1 Dutch version). For him whoso understands it, sleepless slumber is a spiritual

gold mine.In such sleepless nights many people have been

wonderfully enriched in spiritual things. Herealso is Divine mercy. Sleeplessness is occasionedby our misery, but this misery also God by his

grace transposes into supreme mercifulness. Insuch nights God has remembered his own withsuch spiritual benefits that a night of sleep hassometimes seemed a loss. Divine work goes onthrough the hours of night in the souls of hia

elect in a way that glorifies his name.

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"I WAIT FOR THEE ALL THE DAYLONG."

The Spirit, with the Father and the Son, main-tains all power, and causes it to work not only in

416

forest and wilderness on earth, but also in sun,moon and stars. Wherever there is a creature,

the Spirit operates in it. Without the operationof the Spirit no force of nature is even thinkable.And this spirit, which thus operates in everycreature, is none other than the Holy Spirit, whois to be adored in the Triune Being as the thirdmost holy Person. But this is the difference:

This Spirit is not known nor worshipped in his

holiness, as the Holy Spirit, save among creatureswho are themselves spiritual of nature, and whohave become conscious of their spiritual charac-ter. Above, the angels of God; here on earth,

the children of men.A star in the firmament is brute matter and has

no knowledge of holiness. A plant is without anysense of it. And though Scripture attributes asoul to an animal, and though it has certainintelligence and power of will, an animal is out-side of the sphere in which the holiness of theLord is acknowledged. The connecting sense of

the holiness of the Lord is found here on earthin man alone. Not immediately upon birth. Theinfant in the cradle lives only after the flesh. It

knows nothing as yet of holy sensations. Onlyas it develops and matures, this sense is grad-ually awakened. Even then it often takes manylong years, before the higher moral sense of theholinesses of God awakens sufficiently for the con-science to react forcibly against the unholinessesof this world.

But even so, it is all as yet outside of the holysphere of our Pentecost. The church alone knowsthe grace of Pentecost. It is the holy privilege

of the ransomed of the Lord. The world does

417

not know this grace and does not see it. It ha3not even the faintest idea of what this gracemight be. For this very reason it should bestrongly guarded against, that on the ground of

this privilege, the church should imagine that theSpirit does not operate in this as yet unregeneratedworld, and that he is a total stranger at least tothe forces of nature in the material, unconscious ,

creation. This error is fundamental among thosej

who are too mystical and over-spiritual. Hence 1

it must every time be confessed again and broughtto mind: The Spirit is in every creature. TheHoly Spirit works in every creature of rational

life. But the fellowship of the Holy Ghost, whichthe miracle of Pentecost brings, is only knownand tasted in the church of Jesus Christ.

The working of the Spirit, the activity of theHoly Spirit, and the fellowship of this Holy Spirit

must be collected in this mutual relation as inone bundle. Or else the child of God mercilessly

jabandons the unconverted world, in direct con- 1

flrct with the prayer of the Lord: "I pray notthat Thou shouldest take them out of the world,but that (in the world) Thou shouldest keep themfrom the evil" (St. John 17:15).

And now the second point which should be care-

fully considered. On the day of Pentecost theHoly Spirit was poured out for the first time andonce for all, and he has been in the church eversince, never to leave her again, but to dwell in

and with her forever more. But .... andthis is all too frequently forgotten. What is in

the church is therefore by no means yet present

in everyone that is counted in the church. Thetrue church of the living God is the body of

418

Christ, the mystical body of which he is the Head

;

and in this mystical body the Holy Spirit dwells,

first in the Head, and from this Head, along all

articulations, tissues and veins inspires every onewho as a living member has been incorporatedin this Body, and lives in connection with this

Body. It is not an individual here and an indi-

vidual there, who each by himself receives theHoly Ghost, and who now by uniting togetherconstitute the Body of Christ. A body does notoriginate in such a way, that first there are themembers, and that afterward these individualmembers are joined together into a body. Thebody is conceived and born with the crust andwith the beginnings in it of every member thatlater on is to come out from it. Even the beard,which only covers the chin in later years, is notbrought to it from without, but grows from agerm which the infant at birth brought with it.

And in this body is the life. Not in one memberby itself. An amputated leg is dead. Even anarm that is still joined to the body can be ren-

dered as good as dead, and only becomes alive

again when from the body the blood flows into it.

And so it is with the Body of the Lord, whichis the Congregation of the Saints. The head of

that Body can not be touched. Christ is in

glory. The Holy Spirit never departs from Him.And while Christ as the Head is inseparable fromthat Body, the Holy Spirit, the life of the Church,is always insured and guaranteed in that SacredHead. However nearly hfe may be extinct at agiven moment in the members of the Body, it

flows with irresistible pressure from the Head tothe members again. And even presently exercises

419

that wonderfully assimilating power again whichshows itself so gloriously in every reveille. Ofcourse, this Body is not identical with the visible

church. But the visible church also is not alive

save by the Holy Ghost, who, flowing out fromthe Head of the invisible Body of the Lord, keepsthe church alive so long as she does not cut thevital connection with the invisible Body.And this is the effect of this indwelling of the

Holy Ghost in the church that he who is con-nected with this church in an organic, spiritual

way, knows and tastes a fellowship with the TriuneBeing, such as is not possible outside of it. Thereis, indeed, a certain sense of the existence of Godamong the unconverted. Also a certain feeling

of dependence upon a higher Power. The voiceof conscience is also heard in their hearts. Whenadvanced in years, they frequently think of whatis to come after death. But not with all. Farfrom it. It can not be denied that the numberof those who have no more concern about Godthan about their sin and about their future after

death is steadily on the increase.

But this does not deny that in Christian as

well as in heathen lands there are always manypeople who still hold a certain general religious-

ness in honor. But what these people altogethermiss is not the working of the conscience, butfellowship with the Holy Ghost. And fellow-

ship with the Holy Ghost is, of course, nothingelse than fellowship with God himself. Not the

fellowship of the flock with the Shepherd, notoutward submission to the appointments of Godin our lot of life, not an all-sided dependenceupon God, but fellowship with God in the sense

420

of the immediate meeting of the Ego of God andthe ego of the heart in the mysticism of grace.

We have heard of the holy Apostle, and in

reading his Epistles we have a certain fellowshipwith the Man of Tarsus. But it would be some-thing entirely different if we lived with St. Paulfor a whole year. This difference applies here.

You may have heard of God, of his wondrousdeeds, of his virtues, of his powers, and God maystill be a stranger to you. But fellowship withthe Spirit allows the soul to meet God personally,

to learn to know God personally, to associate withthe Eternal Being personally, and even as a child

with his father to hold converse with the TriuneGod.This is what waiting on the Lord brings you.

A friend meets friend and presently they partagain. But a child waits for his father because hebelongs with him and misses him when he is away.And so it is in this fellowship with God throughthe Holy Ghost. He who has come to know Godpersonally as his Father and has been initiated in

his secret fellowship, can not therefore alwayscontinue therein. The many activities of daily

life do not allow it. The distractions of the worldprevent it. We cut it off continually by sinful

suggestions from our impure heart. And then theLord frequently withdraws this fellowship from usin order to stimulate anew and make stronger thedesire after it. But, and this is the chararcteristic,

a child of God, who first enjoyed this fellowship,

and lost it, misses it, he feels the need of it, andhas no rest till it is found again; even on wakingfrom sleep in the morning, the first impulse is to

obtain this fellowship again.

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Of two things one: either the child of God hasthis fellowship, or he longs for it, he prays for it,

he waits for it all the day long (Ps. 25:5 Dutchversion). In conversion it is a seeking for whatwas not as yet possessed. Afterward it is a seek-ing back what has been lost. And here also it

apphes: ''He that seeks, shall find; he thatknocks, it shall be opened unto him."

''0 GOD, MY GOD."

The flower-bud of prayer unfolds slowly in thesoul of a child. Not that there is no certain

sacred inclination to pray in the heart at a veryearly age. But while the bud is early set, thequestion is when it will blossom. For manymonths the young child was present when motherprayed, but had no understanding of it, and notinfrequently disturbed mother's prayer by crying.

But at last the moment arrives when for the first

time in prayer it undergoes a peculiar sensationand is impressed by what is holy. Tender motherpiety tries to confirm this impression. And beforelong the child kneels down when mother kneels,

and when he is put to bed the first efforts are

made to teach him to pray himself. Then motherfolds the little hands, closes the eyes and says asimple prayer. Ten, twelve words. And the dearlittle one brokenly repeats them after her.

Here the form is ahead of the reality. Theimpression of reverence and awe before the DivineMajesty is there. A young child loves that first

praj^er. But the Eternal has not yet revealed him-self in a clearly conscious form to the heart.

422

Hence a young child learns prayer to Jesus morequickly than direct prayer to the Most HighGod. He does not express in his little prayeranything original. He only repeats something,and when he first weaves something into his

prayer himself, it is not worship, but the requestfor something that employs his childish attention.

It is all, however, a speaking into an unknownHoly sphere that is above or around his little

bed. It is all along the line of a steady but slowdevelopment, and prayer from his own impulseto a God who is to be personally addressed, andwho, at least in a limited way, is personallyknown, is little seen, as a rule, before the tenthyear. There are exceptions with children of five,

six or seven years of age, especially when theydie young. Ordinarily, however, the fuller un-folding of the flower-bud into an own, personal

and conscious prayer, does not come much beforethe twelfth year. Such is more apt to be thecase, when back of the tenth and twelfth yearthere was a period of three or more unfavorableyears, in which the child was obliged to sit still

during long devotions, and when motherly tender-ness of teaching prayer involuntarily turned into

a purely formal compulsion of keeping eyes closedand hands folded.

What God himself performed in the child's

soul during those early years the holy angelsknow, but we do not. Only in the end the result

becomes evident to us. And this begins to showitself about the twelfth year. At that age it be-comes evident whether a spiritual sense is awak-ened in the heart, or whether indifference, if notaversion to holy things has risen. If a spiritual

423

disposition of heart shows itself, it is about at

this age that God himself takes mother's task in

hand, and allures the lad or the young girl into a

first personal prayer, which is born from an ownimpulse.

But from this on to the moment in which the

soul cries out: "O God, my God," the way is

long. Generally the kindly, tender brightness of

childhood prayer is not a little darkened whenthe years of maturity are reached. From all sorts

of books and conversations an entirely different

world of thoughts has entered into the conscious-ness, which, compared with the poetry of the life

of prayer, either appears bitterly prosaic, or if it

glistens in a choice collection of ideals, which mayencourage the cultivation of plans and intentionsand expectations, it does not focus them in theworship of an Eternal, glorious Being.

These two currents, the current of the practical

and ideal life in its multiplicity, and the unityof our life as it is focussed in prayer, antagonizeone another, and in this antagonism sometimesprayer is forever lost. There are those, alas, whowere spiritual in childhood, and who in adultyears have entirely unlearned the art of prayer.

It also happens that prayer continues to be madeand increases in seriousness and depth, but thatthe world is not brought into allignment with it,

and the life of the world remains unreconciledby the side of it, until the soul is more and moreovercome by an oftentimes sickly mysticism or

by an overexcited spiritualism. But in the ordi-

nary way of piety this period of struggle is fol-

lowed by a period of spiritual fixedness. The424

relation between the life of the soul and life in

the world has then been regulated. The little

boat no longer drifts with the caprice of wind andw^ave-beat. A rudder has been provided, a com-pass has been taken aboard, the lee-boards canbe let down sideways. And thus the soul candirect its own course as it rides the waters of thesea of life. Heroic devotion to one's task in life

goes hand in hand with an ever richer develop-ment of the life of prayer.

The sphere of the life of prayer and the sphereof one's calling in life begin more and more tocover one another. Moments of true prayer mul-tiply themselves, by as much as in the work itself,

the elevation of soul to God becomes more fre-

quent, and ejaculatory prayer occurs more often,

until at length a prayerful disposition of the soul

becomes more and more habitual. On the otherhand, secret praj^er is more and more introducedinto the daily task, and it is felt that prayer is

not bound to single holy utterances, but that ourwhole existence with all its needs may be com-mitted to God and may be sanctified in him.Thus prayer grows in significance and begins, tocast its benign shade over our entire life, and soincreasingly becomes the strength of our life.

"Fervent prayer is half the work," is first mechan-ically quoted, but afterwards becomes blessed ex-

perience. And the moment draws nigh whenfinally the "0 God, my God" becomes the clear,

pure expression of what the inner life of the soul

experiences and enjoys in its innermost and holyemotions.

If it should come to the lips too readily, this

''O God my God" (Ps. 43:4) would be gross

egotism, and coveteous selfishness,

tuous claim of God for oneself. ''My God" withno thought of others. This sin in prayer is won-drously overcome in the "Our Father." Thisalway prays: Not give me, but give us our daily

bread; not forgive me, but forgive us our debts

j

not deliver me, but deliver us from evil. Wenever stand before God alone, but always in thefellowship of love with all God's saints. Hence wemust pray as a member of the Body of Christ, andnot as one who stands by himself alone. But the"0 God my God" does not antagonize this in anyparticular. It aims at something entirely dif-

ferent. It springs from the altogether different

idea that God cares not merely for all his chil-

dren, as a king watches over his million subjects,

but that the Ejng of Kings has this advantageover all the princes of the earth, that he knowsall his children personally, that he understandsthem thoroughly, that he sustains a peculiar rela-

tion to each of them, that he has given each acalling of his own, that he has apportioned eacha separate task, that he trains each for a particu-

lar destiny in eternit}^ and that therefore he notmerely sustains a general relation to all, but that

in addition to this, he stands in a particular rela-

tion with each of them. This relation is so per-

sonal, that it is never the same with any one else.

He is Our Father, but as a father of seven chil-

dren is the father of all, and yet distinguishes be-tween them, and adapts himself to each one,

according to his nature, disposition and character,

so the Lord our God is Father of all, and yet

Father in a special sense of each of us, in a

special manner, drawing near to us in a mystical

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way, and revealing himself to us in mysticalsensations which have a character of their ownand bear an original stamp. He knows us andwe are known of him, such as is not possible withanother person who is differently constituted thanourselves. He is the "One Sun," which glistens

differently in every dew-drop. Only this, the dew-drop does not know it. God's child can know it.

And when this knowledge comes to him, he kneelsciown before "God his God."

Distinguish carefully. From God's side this

peculiar relation, which is different with each of

his children, existed from the moment of concep-tion and of birth; yea, already before conceptionin the calling of the elect from eternity. Thedifference lies only on our side. Years of our life

pass by when we indeed know God, and lead apraj^er-life before his face, but only in a generalsense, which is still weaned from the particular.

We pra}' as others pray. We are one of God'schildren, but we are not yet discovered to our-selves as one such, in whom something special of

the Father is expressed. But from the generalgradually the particular separates itself. Thatwhich imparts to us a character of our own, whichgives us our own 'calling and makes us to be aparticular person, begins to enter into special

fellowship with the Lord our God. And now it is

the unsearchable riches of our God, that he, whocreated and elected every one of his children witha particular disposition and with a proper calling,

will be and can be that special God to every oneof them as belongs to their nature and condition.

Not a general fulfilment for all alike, but for

every one of them that special fulfilment which

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he needs. Not only the most-special Providence,but also the most special self-revelation of his

Divine Majesty in the mirror of the life of eachsoul. And when it comes to this, but also onlythen, there rises from the heart of itself spon-taneously the jubilant exclamation of worship:^'0 God my God."

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"THE LORD IS THY SHADE."

Not only the child, but also he who is older,

would rather look at pictures and prints, thanread; or in reading, at least, would like assistance

for his representation. Hence the preference of

our fathers for illustrated Bibles, and the newdemand for books and periodicals with illustra-

tions. For a long time there was little love for

illustrated books, partly because the plates werepoor and partly because the readers were over-wise. But since we have become a little morenatural, and photography and photo-engraving in

less than a quarter of a century have improvedthe illustration to unknown fineness and beauty,the old love for seeing is revived again, and bylooking at pictures, our representation has beenuncommonly enriched. And now everything is

embellished with illustrations in a good way andin a sinful way. The power in letting things beseen is recognized again. Even newspapers seekstrength in this. At present it is still the picture

with the Word. Gradually it will become evermore picture and ever less Word, until in theend exaggeration will avenge itself and the morejust relation will return.

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The main point with it all is, that our naturehas been so created and disposed, that it prefers

immediate sight. And that it carries this even into

the spiritual desire to see, rather than to arrive

at insight by exercise of thought, is not a defectin us, neither is it a result of sin, but a Divineinstinct. Of the heavenly glory it is not prophe-sied that the redeemed will be subtle thinkers,

but that they manifest themselves as children of

God in this particular also, that they desire to see

the Eternal Being, and that they surely shall enj oythis clear, beatific vision.

Philip's request: ''Lord, show us the Father,and it sufficeth us," v.'as but the naive expression

of this deep desire, and Jesus' answer to this

question shows, that the entire Christian reUgioncan be capitulated under this viewpoint of sight.

The Apostles gloried in the fact that they hadseen and beheld the Word of life. In prophecythe vision had prepared the way for this seeing.

And when the apostles portray the glory that is

to come, they prophesy that now we see as in aglass darkly, but that then we shall see face toface, and that in this seeing we shall know evenas WG are known. Not reading, not reasoning, no,

but seeing, and clear vision shall constitute heav-enly bliss. And John adds: "Beloved, it is notyet made manifest what we shall be, but weknow .... that we shall be like him; for

we shall see him even as he is." This seeing is

cultivated by picture and print, and seeing spiritual

things is aided by the emblem— The Cross, theAll-seeing eye, the emblems of faith, hope andlove, The catacombs of the early Christians arefull of such emblems.

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That nature, and life itself, is full of imagery,is of still greater significance. The Bible, morethan any other book, employs it, by which to

show us the spiritual. Apart from picture andprint, and aside from the emblem, it is this

imagery which does not stand by the side of theWord, but enters into the Word, and shows things

through the Word itself. The true vine, the goodshepherd, the Lamb of God, the sower who sowsthe seed, and so much more, it is all imageryborrowed from nature and from life, which Godemploys in his Word, by which to bring thespiritual nearer to us in greater clearness.

The Scripture does the same thing with respect

to the Most Highest, whereby to bring the viewof the Eternal Being closer to us. This EternalBeing comes near to us in the imagery of: TheLord is our Rock, the Lord is our High Tower.He is our Shield. He is our Keeper. He is the

Father in the house of the many mansions. Heis our King, seated upon the throne of his glory.

And among these images is also this beautiful

one: "The Lord is thy Shade" (Psalm 121:5).

Isaiah uses it when on his knees in worship heexclaims: "0 Lord, Thou art my God, .

- . .

Thou hast been a strength to the poor, ... arefuge from the storm, a shadow from the heat,

for as heat through a thick cloud, so Thou shalt

bring down the noise of tyrants" (Is. 25. Dutchversion). And likewise reads the song of

Hamaaloth: "The Lord is thy keeper: the Lordis thy shade upon thy right hand" (Ps. 121:5).

This figure of speech is beautiful because it is

gentle and tender. It is not a revelation of power.No strong arm here bares itself. There is scorch-

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ing heat such as in the desert of the East canprostrate life. And see, quietly and with majesty,a thick cloud passes over the desert levels, andsunlight no more blinds, and sunheat no moreburns, and the traveler breathes again, refreshed andrestored by the Divine shadow from above. Shade I

We sons of the West do not know the glory of

this short word to the man in the East. Withthe exception of dog-days, the sun is no fierce

tyrant to us, to make life a burden. To us the

sun is a lovely something, which we seek. Thesun refreshes and cherishes us. We love his light.

But in the land where prophets prophesied andpsalmists sang, where Jesus walked about with his

disciples, everyone seeks by means of thick walls,

heavy hangings, high trees and long white gar-

ments, to escape the fierce tyranny of the sun. Inhot seasons everything there burns, glows, and is

scorched. And in level deserts man and beastare helplessly surrendered to the heat of the sandand the scorching rays from above. Everythingcalls and prays for shade. And all this, appliedby metaphor to the struggle of. God's people, andto the battle of life of his servants, inspired bothprophet and Psalmist to refresh Israel with theglorious word of comfort: The Lord thy Godis thy Shade!Thy shade against what? Against the heat of

the day metaphorically descriptive of the burdenof the daily task, of the heat and fierceness withwhich startling opposition, adversity and perse-

cution overtake you. The, Lord is thy Shade is

allied with the other image: the Lord is thj-

Shield, but has another tendency. When youhave to do with an enemy, a persecutor, whom

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3^ou know, whom you see before you, and whoseassault is upon you, you need a shield, and hewho in such threatening moments has sought his

shield with God, has always found it there. Butit is entirely different when heat brings burningswhich can not be grasped, which from the mys-terious background of our lot in life, from covertopposition, as an elementary force press them-selves upon us from all sides, and make us dis-

tressed, and which we can not resist. Such is thecase with the Arab in the desert, when the heatof the sun makes the sand burn under his feet

and the roof of his mouth to be parched. Andso it is with the people of God, when oppositionarises on every hand, when here it is water thatthreatens inundation, and there it is the whirl-

wind that carries everything before it. And so it

is in the personal life when because of the will of

God, and for his sake, one trouble brings another,

and one is driven from trial to trial, and the heatof battle steadily grows in strength and at lengthyou have to succumb.And in such an hour when, as we would say,

the water comes up to the lips, but which makesthe Scripture, which is Eastern in its imagery,speak of a scorching heat from the sun whichthreatens utter prostration, then the Lord is theComforter, since he is then your shade whichcovers you, and makes you breathe again. Inaccordance with the sacred imagery this can bedone by means of a cloud which intercepts the

heat of the glowing swn, but it can also be donein a more tender way. In the desert a father maytake the side of the sun and so make himself ashade for his child that walks with him. And

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this is what the Psalmist suggests, when he sings:

''The Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand."And thus the Divine tenderness of highest lovemingles itself in the comforting.

God leaves you not alone. The journey throughthe wilderness can not be spared you. The heatmust burn. But the Lord looks after you. Hecomes to you. His approach to you is very close.

He takes a stand between the heat of the sun andyou. He takes you by the hand. He covers youwith the shade of his majestic greatness. And so

you go on your way rejoicing, refreshed by God'slove and covered by his holy shade.

All this is poetry. We know it well. Butthough it be such, this does not make it fiction.

There is that which no eye has seen and no earhas heard and has not entered the heart of man,but which, already, here God gives to be under-stood, to be seen and to be enjoyed by those whohave been initiated into his secret walk. God canbe far removed from us. He can also be close athand. This depends on his grace. This dependsupon the inward condition of the soul. This muchis certain, that when he is close at hand and theheat of the day threatens to bring prostration, thenhe is your shade, and you feel the cool of it onyour right hand. The cooling effect which theshade of God brings, must be felt. It must befelt in the soul. And if you do not feel it, mayit not be because you are not near unto God?

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"HE INCLINES HIS EAR UNTO ME."The ear is inclined toward someone, either when

our hearing is impaired, or when he to whom we433

listen has a weak voice, or when the distance is

too great that separates him from us. The first

is impossible with God. How should he, who hasplanted the ear, not hear; how should he who hascreated sound, and the hearing of it, not hear all

creaturely sound? Hence, when it is said of God,that he inclines his ear to our prayer, it alwaysmeans a grace to usward, an act of Divine com-passion, whereby the Majesty in the heavensadapts himself to us, bows Himself down to us,

and seeking, meets us in the way.

True prayer is always clothed with deephumility. There are all sorts of prayers. Prayerthat is said; words that are muttered thought-lessly; prayer because the stated hour has struck;

prayer from sense of duty; prayer born fromneed; prayer from deep longing after God;prayer for higher, heavenly strength; prayer fromgladness in happy thankfulness; prayer for one-self; prayer for others; prayer when on2 is alone;prayer with others; spoken prayer; silent prayer;

—the form always changes, and each has its ownvalue. But in all true prayer, in which one cannot rest until he knows that God listens to his

prayer, the soul feels small, the person is con-scious of weakness, and in his own estimation heis as nothing, and less than nothing, before the

Triune God, and self is effaced in order that Godmay draw us up to himself, that the heart maybe lifted up, and that we msiy have freedom of

utterance.

What is the world compared with the firma-

ment, and what are we who pray, compared withthe world in which we are one of more than a

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thousand millions of living souls? There are a few

mighty ones who feel, and must feel, that they

are great in the world. Think of a Napoleon, or

of a Bismarck. But there is nothing of this in

the ordinary man who prays, whose name is

scarcely known outside of his village or town.

The mighty ones on earth have their own account

with God. We can not reckon with them here.

We deal here with the ordinary worshipper whois scarcely known outside of his own little circle.

And what is such an one, if he bends his knees

before the Most High God, the Almighty Creator,

who maintains and governs this little world, andthe many thousand suns and stars which sparkle

and shine in the heavens that endlessly spread

themselves above us?

In all true prayer, therefore, i. e. with such

prayer with which in some measure at least the

soul thinks of the majesty and greatness of God,he who prays can never be anything else than a

nothing in his own esteem, and be deeply con-

scious that his prayer is but a passing breath,

unless it pleases the Lord to incline his ear unto it.

This need springs from the insignificance of the

human voice, from the immeasurable distance, andmore still from the indispensableness of personal

inclination to him who prays. When we wouldhave prayer pierce the heavens, our voice is so

much the acme of weakness, that it makes no dif-

ference whether a leader in the house of prayerraises his voice so as to make it resound throughthe arches, or whether a sick man on his bedbreathlessly whispers his low prayer to God. Evenwhere no sound of voice is heard at all, the silent

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prayer must be breathed from the soul. The voicehere avails nothing. We can compel a hearingwith men by speaking more loudly and boldly;but when we would speak to "our Father in

heaven" the voice loses absolutely all significance.

Then the stentorian voice of the orator has noadvantage whatever over the weakest voice of achild. And whether the shipwrecked man in his

extremity cries out his "0 God, help me" in theface of the howling tempest, it is all the same.Whether strong or weak, our voice avails nothinghere. The bleating of the lost sheep can make theshepherd hear. Our voice can never move Godto hear us.

The voice in prayer is for our own sake and for

the sake of those who pray with us. Even on ourknees in solitude we feel impelled to express ourprayer in words. Clearness only comes into ourprayer by the means of words. It brings relief,

it unburdens the soul. The undulation of sensa-tions within comes to rest in the whispered or

spoken word of prayer. A prayer without wordscan cry out from the soul after God, but thattakes place instinctively and we do not even call

that prayer. Real prayer goes through our con-sciousness. He who prays must know what hewants to pray for. Hjs memory must be active.

He must think of the needs, for which he prays.

He must know the mercies for which he gives

thanks. He must be fully aware of the task in

behalf of which he invokes Divine help. Fromthe mysticism of the heart the praying soul mustcome to be clearly conscious, and this comes to

pass in the word and through the voice, and this

makes prayer perfect. This shows itself still more

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strongly in prayer with others. Then the voiceis the instrument which brings the prayer of himwho prays to the soul of those who pray withhim. He who leads in prayer must be like himthat plays the keys of the organ. His soul plays.

The soul of the others must sound with his. Andthus there is common prayer; a special graceimparted to us by God.Then comes the distance. When we want to

ask some one across a stream or lake for some-thing, we naturally raise our voice, and it helpsus when he on the other side turns his ear towardus, and by his hand back of it shows that helistens, and tries to understand our call. Andwhat broad waters flow between us and God, whenwe want to call on him. The whole world lies

between and all the absorbing interests of life,

and the immeasurable distance to the heaven of

heavens, where the Lord is enthroned in ever-lasting light.

Our Savior commanded us not to begin prayerby addressing the Holy Spirit within us, not withcalling upon the Omnipresent One, who compassesour going and our lying down and whose hand is

upon us, but with a reverent invocation of "OurFather who art in heaven," and the HeidelbergCatechism says so beautifully, that we should dothis, in order not to think of the great God in anearthly way. Of course, this is not all. By con-tinuance prayer becomes more intimate. Thismeans that in prayer God gradually reveals his

holy presence to us and comes close to us. Andat length even enters our heart, when the HolySpirit prays with us and for us, and teaches ushow to pray. But to begin with this is sickly

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mysticism. At first we face the distance. First

the soul must lift itself to higher things. Nothere below but above is the altar of the prayersof the saints, which burns with incense before his

face. No more here below, but in heaven ourSavior is seated at the right hand of God, andprays for us, and by his intercession supports ourprayer. First ''Lift up your hearts," the sursumcorda, and then as we pray God in his majestygraciously condescends to us.

And this true impulse of prayer expresses itself

in this, that prayer can sometimes become a call-

ing, a crying, a roaring, as the Psalmist says; andonly when we observe that God inclines his ear

to us, and regards us, and hearkens to our prayer,

does the praying soul find rest. When in prayerwe feel that the listening ear of God inclines itself

to us, the distance is bridged, and we know that

God has come near to us, and that we are nearunto God.And so, at length, prayer reaches its highest bliss

in what in the third place we called the personalturning of God to him who prays. Thousandsupon thousands call on God every morning andevery evening for help and for salvation. True,the number of those who no longer pray is on theincrease. But still the numbers of those who in

times of need and stress cry after God for deliv-

erance are incalculably great. And now the pointis, to knc^ that among those thousands and tensof thousands who are to be noticed, God also

looks on us, and that he knows that we, too, call

upon him. Among all these voices that cross eachother and mingle together to have our voice also

penetrate to the Almighty. If we may express it

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in a very human way, to know, to perceive, to

feel, that we, too, come to our turn, and that for

us also there comes a moment of hearing—that

is what he who prays means, when he gives jubi-

lant thanks, that God has also inclined the ear tohis prayer.

Of course, this is not so with God. He doesnothing in turn. He hears every one who praysimmediately and all at the same time. But in ourhuman consciousness there is always in our prayer,when it penetrates, a sense that God now turnsalso to us, and inclines his ear to our personalprayer. That he inclines to your prayer differ-

ently than to the prayer of others, because theMost High God knows your particular life, under-stands your personal nature, estimates your special

need o^ soul and therefore has stored up for youan altogether particular hearing of your prayer.And this is the glory of prayer. You call upon

God, and he knows you. He distinguishes youas one among thousands. However insignificant

you may be, with whatever burden of sin youcome to him, he does not pass you by. Hedespises not your supplication. He turns him-self to you, and inclines his listening ear. Andwhen you perceive this inclination of God, prayerbecomes a seal to you of your election. Withclose by you, but that eternally you belong to him.kings and princes on earth, the mighty and thegreat alone are admitted. To him, the Kingof Kings, even the most forgotten and despisedhave access. When you pray, and God inclines

his ear to your prayer, you are close to God, andyour Father who is in heaven, seals the fact toyou, that not only now you have his presence

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''TAKE NOT THY HOLY SPIRITmOM ME."

The Holy Scripture speaks of a seeking of God'sface. "Blessed is the people that know the joy-ful sound: they shall walk, Lord, in the light

of thy countenance" (Ps. 89:15). But the Scrip-ture speaks also of something more intimate, whenit comes to a mutual fellowship, when not onlythe light of God's countenance shines on us, butwhen also the soul lifts itself up to God. ''Thesecret of the Lord is with them that fear him;and he will show them his covenant" (Ps. 25:14).

But with the third round it goes still further,

when Almighty God not only makes his face toshine upon us, and admits us to his secret walk,but when he enters into our heart, makes it his

temple, and as Holy Spirit dwells in it. "TheSpirit himself maketh intercession for us withgroanings which can not be uttered, and he thatsearcheth the hearts knoweth what is the mind of

the spirit, because he maketh intercession for thesaints" (Rom. 8:26-27).

This three-fold degree of fellowship should becarefully distinguished. He who stands on thefirst round of this ladder of fellowship has turnedaway from the vanities of the world and hasaccustomed himself to the light that shines fromabove. He walks no longer in his own light, butin the light of God's countenance. The darknessis past. He knows in whom he believes. Andthe people that thus walk in the light of theDivine countenance, who enjoy this not merelyfrom time to time, but continuously, the Scripture

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pronounces blessed. Then of itself and uncon-sciously the second round is reached, the enteringupon the secret walk with God. Not that thelight of God's countenance shines on us all, butin this way, that the soul has become a mirror,

from which this light is reflected. That Godshines on us, and that the soul shines out towardGod. This is the secret of the Lord which is

inwardly disclosed to us. But even this is notenough. The intimacy of living near unto Godgoes still further, enters in still more deeply, andthen it comes to this indescribable, this unspeak-able, this impenetrable reality that the Lord Godunites himself in the Holy Spirit so closely withour spirit, that he is not merely above and aroundus, but that he is also in us, that he turns intous, makes our heart his dwelling place, and thatin our inmost self he speaks to us and we to him.This highest round is not reached at once. There

is progression here, a blessed development anddeepening, which is not acquired by all, and inwhich provisionally, they who have reached it,

find themselves only now and then. This is

known as their most blessed moments; as a peaceof God which comes and goes again, and which,when it is lost, is sought again anew. The breakcan come from lack of spiritual training. It cancome through a superior power from without. Butin most cases it comes through sin. The latter

was the case with David, and therefore from his

desolate and "God-estranged" heart the prayer atonce arose: "Take not thy Holy Spirit from me"(Ps. 51:11).When we treat of the Holy Spirit, our finite

mind deals with mystery. Human language has

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no words for it. Our conception here fails of all

analysis. We can believe, we can undergo sensa-tions, we can enjoy, but here on earth, at least,

and in our state of sin the deep mystery of theTriune Being of God can not be unveiled to us.

We worship Almighty God as our Father who is

in heaven. We worship the God of all grace inthe Only-begotten Son, whom he gave unto us,

whom he sent, and delivered in our behalf. Andwe worship still more intimately the thrice HolyOne in the Holy Ghost, whom we possess as Com-forter in our hearts. In whatever direction ourthinking and pondering moves, whether to theworld round about us, whether in the world of

our heart, it is always God whom we meet,it is always in God that our searching gaze finds

its point of rest, it is always to God that ourworship and devout adoration lift themselves. It

is always God who overshadows us, and inwardlyfills us with his holy love. One and the self-sameGod, one glorious and ever-blessed Being, oneOmnipotence which carries and knows us.

But it remains a mystery. A mystery which is

tender to our heart, rich in blessed enjoyment,ever more intimately revealing itself to the seek-ing soul, but far transcending all our thinking, all

our understanding, all our study and pondering.It is the most real of all realities. It is the onething that stays by when once the world shall

fall away from us, and consciousness shall bedarkened in the haziness of death. It is thesecret of the Lord at which scorners laugh, whichleaves the world cold, awes the sinner and strikes

terror at his heart, but which, according to thecovenant of peace, is shown to God's child in the

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stillness of solitude. It is the Holy Ghost him-self who, entering into the heart of God's child,

sets the seal upon it of this Triune Mj'stery.

But for this reason fellowship with the Holy-Spirit in us is exceedingly sensitive and tender.

Nothing must come in between, or it is gone. It

can not withstand anything or it is lost. It cannot bear any disturbance, or it has fled. Notthat the Holy Spirit withdraws himself and leaves

us to ourselves. On the contrary he remains in

the heart which he has chosen for his dwellingplace. Neither Satan nor the world can expelhim from his temple. And this is his Divine love,

that dwelling in us, he allows himself to begrieved, to be offended, to be hurt and woundedby our sin, and still continues his stay.

This does not seem to you to be the case. Inthe hour of transgression, you feel that the HolySpirit became a stranger to you; that he wentfar away from you; and that he could scarcely

be reached by your earnest supplication. Hetruly continued to hold tenure in your heart, butin the heart itself a wall of separation was rearedbetween your spirit and the indwelling HolyGhost. The door of the temple within was lockedby your own ego. You descended in your ownbeing to the deeper underground, above whichthis temple raises itself. In this temple the HolyGhost was still enthroned, but you had no moreaccess to it. So all fellowship was broken. All

secret intercourse was cut off—your sin hadwound you round as a spider the fly. And whilethe Holy Spirit, whom you grieved, in seekingcompassion reaches out after you again, you drawyourself back in your own sense of guilt.

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And even in such moments, faith that is notunderstood, continues to shine through. After

his deep fall David felt the anxious estrangement."

He realized that as long as God looked upon his

sin, no restoration of fellowship was possible, andtherefore he prayed: "Hide thy face from mysins, and blot out all mine iniquities" (Ps. 51:9).He became inwardly conscious that his pollutedheart was bound to estrange him from God, andtherefore he pleaded in such touching and beauti-ful terms: ''Create in me a clean heart, God,and renew a right spirit within me." He walked in

deep darkness, and so he prayed that the light of

God's countenance might pour down its beamsagain upon him. But though he bruised his

guilty head against the wall of separation, in thatsame striking moment the sense of faith was alive

in him, that behind that wall the Holy Ghoststill reached out to comfort him, and thereforehe prayed not: "Give me back thy Holy Spirit,"

but altogether differently: "Take not thy HolySpirit from me."

Thus the soul that is troubled and wretchedholds fast to faith. It does not understand this

in itself; it does not grasp this; but it feels that

grace does not let go, that grace is in God, that

God with his grace still operates within, and it

only fears that this grace, which is in God him-self, might be removed from it. And against this

fear the soul prays, supplicates, cries: God,stay by me, stay in me. Let me not go forever.

And this supplication keeps on, in earnestness andin sincerity, until at length in unspeakable com-passion the door of the temple opens itself again.

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And then the joy of salvation returns; themeeting again between the soul that had deeplygrieved the Holy Spirit, and the Holy Spirit whorather than let go the soul of God's child, hadallowed himself to be grieved. It is well with himwho has experienced this with regard to his ownsin. He alone understands what it is to have theHoly Ghost as his Comforter.

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"KNOW YE NOT THAT YE ARE THETEMPLE OF GOD?"

In prophecy it is said, that God "turned aside

to tarry for a night" (Jer. 14:8). This figure is

borrowed from the wayfaring man who at sun-down turns in to spend the night, and when, in

early morning the sun appears above the horizon,

he leaves the hospitable inn and pursues his way.Applied to the Holy One of Israel, this meansthat at times the prophets were aware of theindwelling of the Spirit in the soul; but that it

was not permanent, that it was transient, and thatsoon the God close by had become again a Godafar off. By the side of this experience of a Godwho turns in to tarry for a night, and then leavesthe soul again, Jesus puts the promise, that onthe day of Pentecost, God the Holy Ghost, shall

come to the people of the Lord, and shall not goaway, but abide with them forever. St. John, inhis Gospel (7:39), states this forcibly, when hesays: "The Holy Ghost was not yet given, be-cause that Jesus was not yet glorified." Thiscan not mean, of course, that the Holy Spirit didnot as yet exist, but signified that the Holy Ghost

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had not yet taken up his abode in the churchpermanently, because, only after his ascension,

Jesus would send the Comforter from the Fatherto the church.

And so it must be understood when the Apostles

speak of the church as of a "Temple of God" andas a ''dwelling place of God in the Spirit." "Knowye not that ye are the temple of God, and thatthe spirit of God dwelleth in you" (I Cor. 3:16),not merely signifies that the Holy Spirit turnsinto the hearts of the saints, but much more andmuch more strongly, that having entered theheart, he abides there permanently; that he nevermore leaves the heart that has once been enrichedwith his indwelling, but according to Jesus' prom-ise he remains there forevermore.

It indicates a new state of things, an entirely

different dispensation of the Spirit. What underthe old dispensation took place transiently, whatwas an occasional descent from on high into thehearts of a very few, under the new dispensation is

an age upon age indwelling in the whole church.Under the old dispensation the separation betweenGod and man was maintained. The only dwell-ing of God among men which was permanent wasin Zion. But under the New Covenant, in virtue

of the sacrifice of Golgotha, the wall of separationhas been done away for good; what separatedman from God has forever been brought to nought.God has not merely come to his people, but hascome into his people. The temple of Zion hasceased to exist, and in the place of it has comethe church of the living God. She is now God'stemple. God dwells in her.

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Thus humanity is divided. There is the unre-generated world, with which the separation con-tinues, and which has no more temple on Zion.

And there are the people of the Lord, who are nolonger carnal, but live their hves in the spirit.

Among this people, in this Church of the Lord,all separation has fallen away. She is more closely

allied with heaven than with the world. She hasbecome the permanent, abiding, the never-endingdwelling place of God in the Spirit.

But care must here be taken. This does notmean that God's spirit reveals his operations in

God's saints alone. He who says this, denies theomnipresence of God, the Holy Ghost, and limits

his activities. The Holy Ghost is himself God,and therefore there is nothing in God's creationin which this Spirit does not operate. Not alonein everything human, but in every creature, wherethere is a working of the Son and of the Father,there is likewise a working of the Holy Ghost.With every other representation the unity of theThreefold Divine being is lost. In creation itself

the omnipotence of God is evident; that is tosay, the omnipotence of the Father, as well as theomnipotence of the Son, and the omnipotence ofthe Holy Spirit. From the Father is the fullness

of power, from the Son the fullness of thought,from the Holy Ghost the fullness of energy. Thereis no force of nature, no organic working, noDivinity evident in the richness and beauty ofnature, but the Holy Ghost glorifies himself in it.

And if this is evident in the inanimate creature, it

is much more strongly evident in the consciouscreature. To think of an angel apart from thefact, that all talents and gifts which operate in

447

him, are derived from the Holy Ghost, is absurd.The same applies to man. No general has everexcelled, no poet has ever sung, no scholar hasever reaped the admiration of the world, noartist has ever enriched life with his creations,but it was the Holy Spirit, who caused the sparkof genius to glow in him.Such and not otherwise is the teaching of

Scripture. It even goes to far, that no gift ofthe Spirit, and no talent among men has everbeen used against God, but it was the HolyGhost who not only apportioned this talent, butalso maintained it, and caused it to work. Hencethis is the awful judgment which awaits the manwho has misused his talent against God, that oncehe shall know what it is, with a gift of the HolyGhost to have turned himself against God.The indwelling of the Holy Ghost in the soul

is altogether different from these gifts. Entirelyapart from our gifts and talents we have a per-sonal life. This personal life enables us to com-pany with the three persons in the Godhead per-sonally. As among men we company with oneanother, so that they and we enter into consciousfellowship, and undergo one another's influence,

mutually receive and return love, enter into their

thoughts and acquaint them with our own, suffer

their superiority, enter into covenant and rela-

tion with them, devote ourselves to them andmake sacrifices for them, so it is given man toenter into personal intercourse with the Holy One,in secret fellowship and in holy communion. Thisindwelling of the Holy Ghost in us signifies, that

God not only allows himself to be sought of us,

but that he himself has come to us; that by

448

regenerating us he has enabled us to obtain per-

sonal fellowship with him, that he did not wait

till we had found him, but that ^e made the

approach to us and touched us not from with-

out but from within, and that m the deepest

secrecy of the life of the soul he estabhshed the

tie which made us to taste his presence m the

very roots of our being, m the deepest ground

of our sensations, in the immediacy of our first

perceptions and feelings.

This Divine fellowship does not depend on

natural gifts and talents, for he who is "^ost richly

endowed with genius may suffer the lack of it, and

the plainest among the plam may enjoy it to the

full. In humamty itself God has implanted the

disposition for this. Sm alone has disturbed it.

In regeneration God restores this disposition. Then

fellowship IS possible again. Then fellowship

comes again. Then in the deepest secrecy of hi.

soul man is one again v/ith GodThis is the work of the Comforter. It is not

yet the heavenly state, which will be all joyous

when even the memory of our sm not only, but

of the fact of our ever having been sinners will

be taken from us, and will be cast into the depth

of the sea. Here we still feel that we undergo a

Divine, artistic operation. By having o^^ under-

standing darkened and by being blinded and for-

saken we are reminded again and again of the

antithesis between this glorious indwelling of thB

Holy Ghost, and the fact that we have been born

S sin With us the Holy Spirit continuously

reacts against our, sinful nature. And ^heref^^^^^^

here on earth he is and remains our .pomforter.

For this is the blessed comfort of a chdd of dust,

449

that while on one side he still sinks away in

misery, yet under it all and with it all he remainsconscious of the blessed presence of the HolyGhost. That the Holy Spirit does not go away,that he does not allow himself to be sent away,that he does not give us up, but continues to

dwell with us, and to take us as we are, is his

infinite, his Divine love. That he did not merely"turn in to tarry for the night," but that heabides with us forever, is our joyous bliss, andthe glorious richness of our comfort.

84

"ACCUSTOM NOW THYSELF TO HIM."

The exhortation that we should accustom our-selves to God, carries a reproach that brings

shame. It is as though one would say to a child:

"Accustom yourself to your mother I" This mightbe said with regard to a stepmother, stepfather or

stepbrother, but we do not accustom ourselves

to our own mother, who has carried us under herheart. We love her with all the fidelity andaffection of the heart of a child.

We only accustom ourselves to what is strange

to us, or what by estrangement has become so.

When, therefore, we are exhorted to accustom our-

selves to God, it implies that our Father who is

in heaven has become a stranger to us; that this

estrangement is still a barrier in the way of ourfellowship with God; and that we should endeavor,

the sooner the better, to accustom ourselves again

to God, in order that this obstacle might beremoved.

460

-With God, of course, this does not mean, what

it does with us, when we speak of becoming

accustomed to one. We speak of it most fre-

quently when we first come in touch with someone who acts strangely, a man of strong peculiar-

ities, who is unpreposessing. Then it is our duty

not to be repelled by him, but indulgently to seek

common points of interest with him, and to adapt

ourselves to his strange manner. We also speak

of accustoming ourselves to one, who either by a

difference in development is far above us, or whoby social difference has another outlook upon life.

For this makes a difference in inclinations and

sympathies, in mental activity and choice of voca-

tion in life. He is interested in what does not

interest you. And in the great drama of life you

play in an altogether different act from his. Thusto accustom oneself to another, in all such cases,

means, that we restrain ourselves, that we smooth

down the sharp edges of our own character, and

that constrained by the dictates of love and the

necessity of social intercourse, we enter into his

life, in order to understand him, to sympathize

with him, and gradually to adopt him into the

circle of our affections.

All this of itself is entirely different with re-

spect to the Lord our God. With him we have

to do with our God and our Creator, with our

Lord and our King, with our Father who is in

heaven. Everything in him that appears strange

to us is our own fault, our own sin; it is sign

and token that we are wrong; that we are corrupt

461

in our sensations and feelings, and that we are

astray in the deliberations of our hearts. If wewere what we ought to be, there would be noestrangement from God, and no need of the

exhortation to accustom ourselves again to God.Hence the saying: "Accustom now thyself to

him," is a judgment that is passed on us, a com-plaint against our mode of life, and at the sametime it is a sacred admonition to become a child

again in fellowship with our Father.

What is unbelief in these our days? From whatcause is the quiet, firm confidence in what God hasrevealed unto us, shaken with many, even amongthe faithful? One first speaks of impenetrablesecrets; then of problems which defy the under-standing: gradually it is doubted whether revela-

tion is correct, until, at length, in the face of

Scripture and experience the human interpretation

of life is boldly posited as the only valid one.

What this amounts to is, that feeling strange to

God and to his Word, there is no willingness to

get accustomed to him, to his doings and to his

Word. On the contrary it is demanded that Godshall change him&elf and show himself to be con-

form to our thought. If we accustom ourselves

to him we must change and reform ourselves

until we are meet for God. But doubt and un-

belief demands that our confession of God shall

be modified in such a way, that it shall turn out

a God for us who shall suit us.

This struggle was not so sharp and bitter at

one time, because at least in its main outlines

452

the Bible interpretation of life was counted valid

in science, in public opinion, and therefore in edu-

cation, and in the better forms of social inter-

course. He who in those better days believed, wascarried by the general tenor of life, and there

was no occasion for offense, not even amongthe younger people. But all this has changed.

Every fundamental idea about God, creation, the

fall, the Atonement, life after death and the last

judgment, which was once common property, has

been given up by science, has become uncertain

in public opinion, has been banished from educa-

tion, and dismissed as topics of conversation fromamong more serious-minded people. And not this

alone, but gradually an entirely different systemof fundamental ideas has been put in place of it.

An altogether different confession has arisen, a

different catechism has found entrance. Broadlyramified, the rationalistic interpretation of life nowstands in public opinion side by side with the

Christian Confession.

Thus to the estrangement from God which is

occasioned by sin, a second estrangement has beenadded, which tempts us to adopt an interpreta-

tion of life, which openly conflicts with the plan,

doings and wisdom of God, as revealed in his

Word. Everything in God has thereby becomestrange to many people. In no single particular dothey feel at home with God or in his Word. Thechild has ceased to know his Father. Hence the

call : "Accustom now thyself to God" is most serious

and doubly significant. It now means: Disen-

4&3

gage yourself from the tie that binds you to the

wisdom of the world, and with all your mind andheart enter again into the plan and most holythoughts of God.

Do not take this in a philosophical sense.

Interpret it practically in behalf of life. Especially

with regard to the mystery of suffering, to whichEliphaz applied it, even though mistakenly, in

the case of Job. Suffering would be no mysteryamid the hardships of life, if it were always care-

fully measured out to individuals, according to

their misdoings against God or man. For thennothing would be evident in suffering save right-

eous retribution, and for the rest every one's lot

in life would be alike. This thought certainly

implies the unchangeable fact of eternal retribu-

tion, in accordance with every man's deeds,

whether they be good or evil. The mistake,

hov/ever, is, that this retribution of eternal justice

is confused with the mystery of suffering here onearth; so that suffering is taken individually, andestimated by each personal manner of life andbehavior. This makes us stumble on the hardfact, that we are offended at the godless man whoprospers, and even worse, that our soul smartswith indignation at the sight of a true child of

God, a noble character, a faithful servant of

Christ, who, as we would say, did nothing wrong,

overwhelmed by waves of affliction. That menmight do so, we understand. When a tyrant

honors the godless, and harasses the children of

God, we think it dreadful, because it is always

454

God who allows it; but we can submit to this.

But that God himself inflicts this in sickness, andby means of cruel death, is and remains at this

viewpoint a stumbling block which one can not

get over, and which has killed much rootless faith.

What accounts for this, save that God's thoughts

are entirely different from our thoughts, and that

instead of accustoming ourselves to his plan, westubbornly maintain our interpretation of suffer-

ing in opposition to him.

With God, individual retribution is connectedwith the last judgment, and not with sentencepassed by an earthly judge, and far less still withsuffering, which he brings upon us. According to

the teaching of Scripture, sin is no evil that cleaves

to single individuals, but a poison that hasentered into our whole race. The creation of manwas not individual, but in it was created a race,

all mankind, which, in all ages and among all

nations forms one whole. Not a large number of

people that only afterwards by laws and otherw^ays are counted as one whole, but our humanrace; from which individuals proceed, and to

which they belong as twigs and leaves to a tree.

And to save the race of man which he created,

God brought suffering into the world of men, as

an antidote for the poison of sin. With him suf-

fering is a cup of sacred medicine which headministers not to the individual person, but to

our race, in order to counteract the poison of sin.

And now he selects priests and priestesses whoare called of him, to administer 'the sacrament of

455

suffering to the world. If he elected godless peo-

ple only for this purpose, they would hardenthemselves against suffering, and the godly wouldpride themselves on being spared. The medicinewould do no good. It would bring spiritual pet-

rifaction. It would bring loss for gain.

No, to bear suffering, he calls first of all uponthe best, the most godly, the most noble, his

prophets and his martyrs. Thereby the holyoperation of the medicine goes forth and accom-plishes that whereunto he has appointed it. TheCross explains it. God so loved the world, that

he gave it his only Begotten Son. Personally

Jesus stands entirely outside of sin. He is notonly the most godly, the noblest, the best of the

children of men, but he is the Son of Man, andupon him comes the burden of suffering as uponno other man. And from no suffering amongthe children of men has there gone forth an opera-

tion unto salvation as from his Cross. And there-

fore, the Cross expresses the thought of God, the

appointment of God, the wisdom of God. Whoso-ever would understand his own sorrows and the

suffering of the world, must accustom himself to

this appointment, to this thought and to this

wisdom of God. And he who does this has heav-enly comforting, yea, he can give thanks that

the cup of suffering has not passed him by. Hefeels that he is himself a priest, in order that

following after the One High priest, he may, in

the name of the Lord, administer the sacrament

of suffering.

456

86

"THE SPIRIT OF MAN IS A CANDLE OFTHE LORD."

To be near unto God is a luxury of soul whichby grace can be our portion also in unconscious-

ness. When a child of God that enjoyed the

secret walk is put under an anesthetic for the

sake of an operation, it does not break fellowship

between his heart and God. The same is true of

a swoon. In high fever when the heated bloodover-stimulates the brain, and delirium ensues,

the relation with God remains equally intact.

Even sleep, which for many hours deprives us of

self-knowledge, may not be taken otherwise, andthis entirely apart even from our consciousness

in dreams. And yet in each of these conditions,

from our side, as far as conscious life goes, beingnear unto God is inactive. But consciousness of

fellowship with God is not, therefore, lost. Beingwakened by a gentle touch, it is felt again andresumed. Consciousness of this fellowship hasonly become inactive. It is with this as withour capacity of sight. This, too, in sleep is notgone, but its at rest. Electric light illustrates this

clearly. When the button is turned, everythingis light, and when it is turned again, everything

is dark. The power remains the same. It onlydraws itself back from shining.

From God's side, on the other hand, fellow-

ship with the soul of his child operates contin-

ually; even under narcotic influence, in a swoon

457

and during sleep it maintains itself and acts. Theknowledge of this imparls rest, as one undergoes

an anaesthetic, and no less that peaceful feeling

with which at night we lose ourselves in sleep.

"Let me sleeping wait for thee; Lord, then sleep

I peacefully," as it was sung in Hernhutt. Andwho can doubt but that the strength-imparting

and strength-renewing operations with which our

Father who is in heaven favors his children, are

yet more manifold and effective in sleep than byday. The third part of our life, that binds us

to our couch, by no means serves the needs of

the body alone. It meets a higher end. Particu-

larly by night God builds his temple in our hearts.

This detracts nothing from the fact that, "Tobe near unto God" only obtains its highest sig-

nificance, when with our clear consciousness of

day we hold blessed fellowship with God. Whenwe perceive, observe and know, that the soul is

near to God and God near to the soul; when,humanly speaking, there is an exchange of per-

ceptions between God and us; when we, speak-

ing reverently, with the telephone call up God in

prayer, and far from on high the answer comes.

But consider well, that this calling and answering

are not exhausted by the words you stammerand the ideas which thereby operate in you. Amother has tender, affectionate communion with

the little one at her breast, apart from any wordand outside of any intellectual understanding.

That which operates in this fellowship and main-

tains it, is life itself, the drawings of the blood,

468

the thrilling of the feeling. And though, whenthe child shall have become a youth and a youngman, this fellowship will express itself in wordsand in ideas, the root of this communion, even in

later years, will reach deeper than the lips that

speak the word. What does not the look of the

eye convey, the expression of the face, a tear a.

smile, and how sweeth^ does not operate in andunder all this the commimion of the same blood,

the tenderness of hiding love?

All this is not unconscions, but constitute? partof the consciousness. It ii as the fragrance of aflower, as an atmosphere of love which we breathein. It is the perfume and the atmosphere of the

heart, which we drink in with full draughts. Andtruly, you well know what the scent of a rose is,

and of an hyacinth; you are perfectly consciousof it, even though the ablest botanist is not able

to analyze this perfume in ideas, nor to describe

it in words. Thus to be consciously near untoGod, means far more than you can understand, or

express in words. It is a becoming aware, a per-

ceiving, a feeling, which may not be attributed

to the nerves. That creates false mysticism. Butit is a perceiving and an expressing of self in aspiritual v.ay, in the immediate union of yourinner sense with the life of God.To make this plain the Scripture distinguishes

between the soul and our inner being. It speakson one hand of the heart and of the soul, and onthe other hand of something that lies far behindand deep underneath the two. This is expressed

459

plastically in several ways, mostly by contrasting

the heart and the reins, and also by speaking of

the bowels, or as in Proverbs 20:27, by contrast-

ing the soul with "the innermost chambers of the

belly." Translating this into our language, "the

soul of man" here means our consciousness, andthe latter clause what we call: Our hidden inner

being. In this sense it is said, that "our con-

sciousness is a candle of the Lord that searches

our innermost being." Our consciousness is a

searchlight which God himself sends forth across

our entire inner being, in order that in its bright-

ness and clearness we should learn to know our

own inmost self.

Thus only are these words intelligible to us,

and unveil a deep, far-reaching thought, whichpenetrates and appeals to us. Our consciousness

is not of our own making. To become conscious is

not our act. But all consciousness is an operation in

us which is quickened by God, and which is

maintained in us by him from moment to moment.It is on a line with the sun. The sun is the light

in the world of nature, by which God enables us

to see, to observe and to investigate nature. Andin like manner the consciousness is a light which

is ignited by God in our personal ego; or

better yet, it is a light which God causes to shine

in the world of our innermost being, in order that

in this spiritual light we should examine and esti-

mate our own spirit. This light of our con-

sciousness is called a candle, because when we go

•down into ourselves, we begin with a sinking away

460

into pitch darkness, and in this black darkness

of our innermost being, God meets us with the

candle of our consciousness.

Of course, our consciousness is no candle, whichthe Lord uses to search us. God has no need of

the hght of the sun by which to clearly see his

whole creation. In the deepest parts of the

earth, where no beam of sunlight ever enters, it

is light before God as the day. As David sangin Psalm 139: "Yea, the darkness hideth notfrom thee; but the night shineth as the day; the

darkness and the light are both alike to thee."

What is here true of the light of the world,applies equally to the world of our inner being.

There, too, God has no need of a candle, where-with to throw light upon us. In the darkness of

this hidden world also the darkness shineth as

the day. But we have need of this candle andit is grace, that by the light of this candle of our

consciousness God lightens the darkness of ourinner being. We make artificial light. This makesus think. We do this by reasoning. We do this

by our representations. And that can have its

use. But frequently this artificial light shines

falsely. It misleads. It never shines further in

than the surface. This artificial light of our ownpondering and musing never enters into whatSolomon calls, with such plastic, graphic power,

''the innermost chambers of the belly." And all

too frequently it blinds our eyes, so that we cannot see the light of the candle of the Lord with

the eye of the soul. Hence the so-called "civil-

461

ized world" for the most part is blind to the

light of God's candle in us.

The light of this candle of the Lord in us does

not argue, and does not analyze, but shows whatthere is in us, lays bare our own being before the

eye of the soul, gives us self-knowledge, and cuts

off all self-deception. And it is the light of this

candle of the Lord which makes us clearly see in

the deepest underground of our being, the fibres

by which the root of our being has fellowship

with God; fellowship by reason of our creation

after the image of God; fellowship through the

blessed, glorious regeneration of our sin-corrupted

nature; fellowship through the Divine indwelling

of the Holy Ghost ; fellowship through the glorious

inworking of ever-increasing grace; fellowship

above all else through the tie that binds us to

Christ, and makes us members of his body.

The brightness of this light is always the samein degree, but the effect of it gradually increases

in strength. At first there is still so much that is

wrong in the heart, so much dust of sin, that

covers the heart and renders brightest light invis-

ible to us. But gradually this vile dust flies awaybefore the breath of the Lord, and then the eyecomes to see what was hidden underneath this

dust. And thus it can not be otherwise, but that

the deeper the light can shine in, the more glor-

iously it becomes manifest to the eye of the soul

that we are bound to God with all the ties of

our life, and that our fellowship with Godembraces our whole life.

462

86

"1 IN THEM AND THOU IN ME."

The soul's nearness to God and our "mysticalunion with Christ" belong together. All theapostles placed the emphasis on this; and in their

writings the fathers of the Reformation, withCalvin in the lead, always referred to the mysticalunion with Christ as an indispensable factor in all

true religion. The temptation to which, alas, so

many yield, of staying on Golgotha, and of there

closing off their account with Christ, kills the

faith. The course of procedure is, that the con-

science awakens for a moment; that the weightof sin burdens the soul; and that fear of judg-ment strikes the heart. In such a moment the

consolatory thought of the cross arises invitingly

in the soul. If the atoning sacrifice is accepted,

one is saved. Nothing more is needed save onlyto believe. And one is readily persuaded to dothis. To express this as sharply as the case allows

:

One closes the bargain. And now he deems him-self saved. He accepts it as a fact, that he is

assured of eternal life. He thinks that the aton-ing sacrifice is glorious. It brings perfect salva-

tion. Thus Christ has become his Savior. But in

his conversation nothing is heard of a closer,

tenderer relation of the soul to Christ. In the utter-

ances of his spiritual life nothing is perceived that

refers to it. He is now saved, and that is theend of it.

This, however, is nothing but self-conceit.

Nothing but spiritual egotism is at play in this.

Escape is sought from eternal punishment; onewants to insure himself for eternal salvation. But

463

there is nothing indicative in this of thirst after

the living God; nothing of the child's longing for

his Father's house; nothing of sacred jealousy for

the honor of God's name. And from this, nospiritual power can proceed. No religion canoperate in, nor go forth from, this. And what is

more, it can not be true, that in this wise Gol-gotha can bring propitiation for the life of the

soul.

The Gospel does not preach this. It does notexplain the atoning sacrifice to us in this way.The Scripture never attributes power of salvation

to Golgotha, except as the mystical union binds

our inner life to the life of Christ. It must be abeing buried with him in his death, in order to

rise with him unto life. They alone who havebecome one planting with Christ, share the grace

which he obtained. They alone who have be-come sheep of his flock, can come after the great

Shepherd of souls. It is not Golgotha which saves

us. He who saves us is Christ, who died on Gol-gotha. You must become one with him, as mem-ber of his body. You must be accepted and in-

corporated under him as your Head, before onedrop of grace can fall on you. In the Father youmust have been given to Christ, so that his glory

may be revealed in you. The mystical unionmust have laid the tie of love eternally betweenhim and your soul. Yea, it must become Christ

in you, and the Father in Christ, so that through

this middle link your life of nearness to God canbecome a reality. For so your Savior himself

464

prayed in his high-priestly prayer: Holy Father,

I in them and thou in me" (St. John 17 :2dh

If however, our mystical union with Christ

shall maintain its true religious character, and not

degenerate into sentimental Chnstolatry, this

relation to Christ must never be taken as an end

in itself. Christ is the Mediator, and there can

be no Mediator except for the sake of making our

approach to God possible. To be near unto God,

in sacred confidence to feel oneself to be close by

God to live here on earth in nearness to God

through faith, and once, after death, to serve

God eternally in the Fatherhouse above—that is

and remains the end and aim; and everything the

Scripture reveals to us regarding the Mediator-

ship of Christ, must result in this, and can never

rest in itself. Once Christ himself shall deliver

up the Kingdom to God, even the Father, that

God may be all in all. He who stops short with

himself, or has no further desire than to be num-

bered with God's people, arrests spiritual progress

in his own soul.

The ideal end at which we aim, may and can

not be less, than to enjoy God forever, and to

exist for no other purpose than to glorify his

name. And just because this is the ideal end, all

rehgion on earth is imperfect, which does not

already here bring us nearer to God, make us

dwell in nearness to him, and induce us to spend

all our strength and all our talent in his service.

Piety that consists in soothing emotion and in

spiritual recreation, lacks strength and inspiration.

466

And our piety only becomes energetic when welove God with such perfect consecration, that weknow of no higher joy than to drink in his peace,no greater recreation than to be near unto him,and no holier ambition than to fight and to sufifer

for his holy name. And not even service of

Christ may detract anything from this. TheSavior himself has never desired or aimed at any-

thing else than to bring us to the Father. Who-soever turns this into a sort of Christ-worship,

making him the end and aim, and thereby losing

from sight the approach to our Father who is in

heaven, does not honor Christ, but opposes him,

and does not confirm the mystical union with

his Savior, but tears away the fibres thereof.

This makes the union mystical, i. e. it is not

lost in emotions, sensations and meditations, butrests in the nature of the soul. The feelings whichyou cherish for Christ, the sensations wherewith

the Person and the gracious work of the Savior

afifect you, the thoughts concerning him on whichyou ponder, and on which your confession is

based, truly possess supreme merit. They are

indispensable. All of your conscious life must besaturated through and through with Christ. Butwithout more, this gives you no share in the

mystical union. That which is mystical in a holysense, lies deeper than the consciousness, and roots

in your being itself. Hence, the Scriptural teach-

ing concerning regeneration, the new creature, thenew man. There is not merely atonement andforgiveness, and on your part confession, faith

466

and singing hj^mns of praise. No, Christ has

entered into our nature. This was possible, be-

cause our nature was created after the image of

God; and therefore that which shall take youaway from yourself and from sin, must touch youin your own nature, in your very manner of

existence, it must bring about the change in yourperson, in your outward life, and thus it will be

an holy and a Divine work, which does not take

place in your lips, nor in your brain, but in the

mystical underground of your being.

And this wondrous work is not directly brought

about by the Father, and in every one by him-self, but is effected through Christ, is bound to

him as Mediator of all, and finds in this Mediatorits indestructible guarantee. For the tie whichChrist establishes between himself and us, is so

sacred, that he compares it with the tie that binds

him in his Divine nature to the Father. "I in them,

and Thou in me, Holy Father, keep through

thine own name those whom thou hast given me,that they may be one, as we are" (John 17:11).

No outward, mechanical representation should

be made of "the body of Christ." Among our-

selves we speak of the body, the corps, the cor-

poration of those who are like minded, who worktogether for a given aim. They who belong to

it, are called members, and the management is

the head. But with the body of Christ all this

has a far deeper sense and a far more serious sig-

nificance. No one becomes member of the bodyof Christ by making application, or by subscrib-

467

ing to a doctrine. No one is incorporated in this

body by a military oath. No one becomes amember here, in order presently from choice, toresign his membership. No, the body of Christis anchored in the soul, as an organism whichforms one whole, no part of which can ever bealienated from it. It is invisible to the eye, butknown of God. Even an infant can belong to it

as an integrant part, before it has ever lisped the

name of Jesus. We do not join that body, butGod adopts us into it, incorporates us in it andappoints each of us, as members of Christ, anown, fixed place in it. At the same time our

calling and destiny are thereby forever fixed. In

this body we are fellow-members with other mem-bers, not from our choice, nor from theirs, but

pursuant to Divine disposal, we and they forma unity which never can be broken. And with

them all we are under Christ, as our living, quick-

ening and inspiring head, from whom alone

warmth of love is obtained. And our existence

as members in that body and under that Headhas no other aim than through the mediator to

bring us near to God again, to assure us of aneternity in his holy presence, and thus to guar-

antee the highest end of our existence: even anexistence throughout everlasting ages for the sake

of the honor of the thrice holy God.

This is the mystical end, which the mysticalunion with Christ serves as means, and thereforeChrist intertwines the tie that binds him to his

own with the tie that binds him to the Father

468

in the: "I in them and Thou in Me." A unity

sealed of God,87

'TOR THE SPIRIT OF GOD RESTETHUPON YOU."

It was a wonderful word which Jesus spake

—

one which still pours balm into many wounds,and revives courage when ready to faint; a, wordwhich has made heroes and martyrs, and hasstrengthened and comforted them—when at the

end of the beatitudes he said: "Blessed are ye,

when men shall revile you, and persecute you,and shall say all manner of evil against youfalsely, for my sake."

This word reaches farther than the prophecy,

that prison and martyrdom awaited the disciples.

These would be limited to certain periods in the

struggle of Jesus' church. But what is not boundto any age, but always goes on, is the malice andhatred, the mockery, scorn and disdain, fromwhich the world can not restrain itself, wheneverthe Lord's people gather strength to oppose it andcourage to resist it. Persecution unto blood is

exceptional. This other persecution, which withthe lancet of scorn and abuse, strikes at the heart,

goes on in all ages. And therefore, this beatitude

of the Lord enters so deeply into our human life.

It betrays the tender sympathy of Jesus for whatawaited his own. It finds application, now here,

now there, every day. No day passes but it

imparts courage and comfort. It does not mean

that we should defiantly meet the world that is

offended at Christ, but it aims to inspire the dis-

ciples of the Lord to stand their ground whenthey would retreat, and to remain unmoved in

the face of slander and disdain.

But do not forget that this word has its dan-gerous side, because it has often been misquotedand misapplied. This depends upon that whichin your actions and words makes people disdain

and persecute you, and to say all manner of evil

against you. It may be true zeal for the cause

of the Lord, but it may also be exaggeration,

eccentricity or loveless bigotry; or, worse yet, it

may be the gap that yawns between your con-

fession and practice, hypocrisy which, in part, dis-

figures your life. And even if in the latter case

the reason of resisting the world may be zeal for

the cause of Jesus, yet, in fact, so much of self

mingles with it that the ''for my sake" with which

Jesus conditioned his beatitude, only partially

applies to you. Yea, it may, and does happen,

that the mockery, disdain, and slander of the

world, is invited almost so exclusively by your

own sinful alloy, that even not a few of your

fellow-believers are bound to take the part of the

world against you, and far from calling youblessed in Jesus' name, feel instinctively that your

example has hampered rather than helped the

cause of the Lord.

Understand this well. It does not mean to say

that you are only right, when the world honors

your loveableness of character, acknowledges

470

your honesty and uprightness, and pays homageto what is called your philanthropic and ethical

nature. The world has demonstrated this dif-

ferently in the case of Jesus himself. When wedo nothing else in the name of Jesus than whatthe world can praise, that which is characteristic

in our confession and in our life is gone. Onethical grounds nothing could be said against the

Apostles of the Lord, and yet the world has dis-

dained them, and has not rested until it hadhounded them to the death. In our confession,

life and zeal there must always be that w^hich the

world can not tolerate, which offends it and com-pels it to resist. Only, what may never be want-ing, if the beatitude of the Lord may be applied

to us, is what Peter (1-4:14) states as follows:

"If ye be reproached for the name of Christ,

happy are ye; for the spirit of glory and the

Spirit of God resteth upon you." This must beso. The Spirit of the Lord must rest upon you,

the Spirit of the Lord must speak both fromwhat you do and from what you leave undone.

It must not be against you, but against the Spirit

of the Lord, that the fierce anger of the world

turns itself. Then you are reviled for Christ's

sake, and from this disdain springs the blessed-

ness which your heart craves.

The question here again is whether you are

"near unto God," for when you are near unto God,God is near unto you, and then the world turns

not against you, but against God, and only against

you, in the measure in which you are near unto

471

God, and God is found near unto you. The proof

of this is, that as soon as you let go your hold

on God, the world is ready at once to turn its

scorn into praise, and its disdain into applause.

There is undoubtedly hatred against the neigh-

bor in the sin of the world. This began with Cain.

But only insofar as the personal hatred of ego-

tism operates against one's neighbor, the fire of

this hatred is brought to burst out into flame bythe passion for personal profit, by material

interests, by the struggle for position, by willful-

ness and jealousy. This hatred of the world is

not turned against Christian people in particular,

but operates at large in the world itself.

But in the lowest parts of the sinful humanheart there is no hatred against the neighbor, butagainst God. Thus it began with Satan, and thus

he has transferred it into the hearts of mankind.This hatred against God may in a general wayexpress itself covertly, and only rarely turn into

open denial of God and blasphemy. But it

is this hatred, which propels the stream of the life

of the nations. The never-satisfied passion for

emancipation. The ambition to be one's ownlord and master, and to own no God as Lordand Master above self. To be as God and to beGod himself, and unwillingness to bend the knee,is the evil germ from which all sin grows. Andbecause the Lord's people oppose this, and loudlyplead for God's majesty, the world turns on thesepeople, to stop their mouth, to rob them of

influence, and to doom them to inactivity.

472

I

But the fire of this hatred only breaks out

fiercely and unsparingly, when the world perceives

that it is no more you who speak of God andbear witness for him, but that the living Godhimself speaketh in you, because he dwelleth in

you, and when for this reason it can strike in

you at God himself and at his Christ. Whenthe world perceives that the spirit of the Lordrests upon you, it can not tolerate you, andputs the choice before you between letting go of

God and its deadly hatred, which shall not rest,

until it has spiritually or morally destroyed you.

To be near unto God, so near, that he hasmade your heart his temple and has come to youwith the Christ, in order to take up his abodewith you in the Holy Ghost, is glorious, blessed,

sweet mysticism of the soul; but there is more.The heart can be no bushel to hide the light

that shines in you. When the Spirit of God truly

rests upon you, that light shines out, and hewho hardens himself against that light will comenot at once but gradually to discover, that youare one who stands in contact with the living

God, and that he who has dealings with you,of himself comes to have dealings with thatholy power which is the Lord's. And then opposi-

tion follows, not on account of secondary inter-

ests, not because of accidentals, but because of

what is highest and most glorious in you.

When Asaph sang of the blessedness of beingnear unto God, his mind was engaged with this

antithesis between the world and God. This

473

antithesis can not be separated from the near-

ness to God. The nearer we are to the world,

the farther away we are from God. And the

nearer we are to God, the greater the distance

between us and the world. If it were possible

for us to go out from the world, after we havecome near unto God, there would no conflict

break out in the heart and no hatred in the worldagainst us. But this cannot be. '*I pray thee

O Father, not that thou shouldest take them out

of the world, but that in the world thou shouldest

keep them from the evil" (John 17:15). Thegrave significance of the Cliristian position is,

that with God in the heart, life has to be lived

in the midst of a world, the heart and life of

which reacts against God. It has indeed beentried, as Christian so to appear, that the worldhands out a passport and grants you an honorarydiploma as one who "though Christian, can betolerated;" but this seductive exhibition of favor

is not bought at anytime, save at the price of

dullijig the sharp edges of our confession.

If the world could make such separation be-

tween you and the God whom you profess andwhom you serve, that it could prosecute its

opposition to God without touching you, it

would readily do so. The world still feels itself

bound to 3-ou as man. But with true followers

of Christ, this can not be done. They are so

near unto God, that the eye of the world dis-

covers no more distance. And therefore it attacks

you personally by making the most of anythingwTong it discovers in you, by mocking at every

474

unsanctified utterance, which is observed in you,

and then falsely and slanderously saying all

manner of evil against you. To be near unto

God and to bear this trouble, belong together.

In such a way however that it must never becourted; the world must never be incited to it

by your desire after the martyr crown. Onlywhat is altogether natural and springs up of itself

is inwardly true and has merit before God. Andthen blessedness ensues not only later on butis already tasted in the midst of oppression, andthen God's angels see and God's children perceive

already here, that in the midst of trouble the Spirit

of glory, the Spirit of God resteth upon you.

ONE AFTER THIS MANNER, ANDANOTHER AFTER THAT.

There is an evil among devout friends of theLord, which must be resisted. In spiritual thingseach desires to impose a law of his own upon theother. Piety is said to be bound to a givenform. One's own way of piety must be thestandard for every one else. Minor differences

may be tolerated, but in the main the same sort

of piety must manifest itself in all God's childrenalike. And so it follows that the piety which theypractice is the standard for all their spiritual

examination and- criticism.

That pride may have a part in this, can notbe doubted. But in this instance, at least at

476

the beginning, pride is not the motive. It is

rather that a beginning is made from the earnestdesire to belong to the people of God, partly as

an assurance of one's own salvation, but morefor the sake of taking an active part in the workof sanctifying the name of the Lord, and of

advancing the interests of his Kingdom.

In the family circle, or outside of it, one meetswith those who carry the impression of tender

piety, and who are reputed in general to be very

godly. Such people are envied. 0, if one could

only himself be such. And so he sought their

company, watched them, observed what they did,

and what they did not do, listened to their con-

versation, and so gradually formed an idea of

what he himself should be, in order to be in-

itiated equally closely, as one of God's dear

children into his secret walk. Thereby a de-

finite type of piety was brought before his mind.According to this fixed type, he sought to reformhis life in the world, his life before believers, andhis life before God. And when he finally succeded

in this, he rejoiced as one who had gained a prize,

was over-rejoiced when he became adopted by "the

pious" as one of their own, and now is fully con-

vinced that every one else must come in the self-

same way, must correspond to the selfsame type,

must have the selfsame experiences, yea, that

in their language and expressions they mustmanifest the very thing which as an ideal hadlong escaped the censor himself, but which at

length he had obtained.

476

Our fathers used to say, that this is putting

oneself in the place of the Word of God. Notfrom oneself, nor from any saint whatever,

but exclusively from God's Word the stand-

ard must be derived which determines gen-

iune childship, and the true gold of our god-liness. These censors did not deny this; only

they tried to show that God's Word posits the

claims and marks of true grace, which theythemselves imposed upon you, and which theysternly applied in their own circle. But onething they forgot, and this became the cause of all

this injurious spiritual unnaturalness ; they did

not see, that God's word, as in every thing else

allows play-room in the spiritual life for verygreat diversity, and in this very diversitj'- seeks

strength.

This does not mean to say, that the Scripture

acknowledges two classes of spiritual children.

There is but one class, but in this one true class

the Scripture aims at an almost endless diversity,

an ever new variegation, an ever surprising in-

dividuality, change and modification in all sorts

of ways; not only in the groups, but in each

separate child of God. It is with this as in the

world of flowers. The rose constitutes a class of

its own. No one will mistake a rose for a lily,

or take a field violet for a rose. To be a real

rose, it must exhibit certain characteristics, or

else it is not a rose. But what endless variety

there is between the monthly rose and the

swamp-rose, the tea-rose and the Alpine-rose.

477

What varieties again in each of these groups

what difference again in growth, leaf, color andin fragrance. Does not every more richly devel-

oped rose addre^ us as a something by itself,

with a charm and beauty all its own?

Such is the case in the whole creation of God.He calls every star in the firmament by name, andthis implies the expression of an own being.. Andon the earth every mountain-line differs, and everyanimal, even every insect, as well as every veget-

able and food that springs from the ground.And in like manner every one of the children of

men is "after his own kind;" every race, everytribe, every people, every family and everyfamily-member differs from every other. Nomother is ever mistaken in her children. Andso it is also in the spiritual. The Holy Spirit

divideth to every man severally as he will, (I Cor.

12:11) or to express it still more strongly: one cannot be a standard for an other. Paul who was him-self an Apostle refuses to be this. And he declares

with utmost emphasis: Every man, i. e. eachindividual, hath his proper gift of God, one after

this manner, and another after that (I Cor. 7:7).

So it is, and so it must be, because our spiritual

life, if it shall be real, is not our work, but awork of God. It is a difference as between writ-

ing and printing. Wliat comes from the press is

in all the copies of the same work precisely

alike. Every man's handwriting on the otherhand exhibits a character of its own. It is thedifference between the products of nature and the

478

factory. A factory manufactures after a fixed

model, everything alike; in nature in which Godworks, everything differs and everything exhibits

a something of its own.

If now the spiritual life of piety is forced into

a selfsame mould, the work of man counteracts

the work of God; then there ensues spiritual

unnaturalness, painted flowers, but no real flowers

;

then no virtue goes out from it, and this sort of

imprinted piety does not bring one nearer to

God, but rather builds up a wall of separation

between the soul and God. Then there is

spiritual dullness, depression and gloom, whereas

God's children should glory in their freedom,

and by reason of this free, happy feehng of

the breaking of bands they should jubilate with

a song of angels in the heart. The lark which

meets the sun with a song, not the snail which

marks its slimy track on the hard clay, is the

image of the redeemed in Christ.

Only let not liberty here be mistaken for

license. Every bird sings with a voice of its own,

but received that voice from God. And so has

God, who created you, implanted and increated in

the hidden depths of your being that peculiar

something from which your character, your per-

son and likewise your own form of childship

springs. Everything in us also is organically con-

nected. The mingling of blood, the sensitive

life of nerves, the relation between understanding

and imagination, the stringing of the heart, the

embroidery of tendencies and sympathies, the

479

tone-scale of the conscience, susceptibility to

emotions and sensations, education, environment,

business, all this together puts a peculiar stampupon our whole spiritual being. One is after

this manner, and another after that. And in

connection with this the Holy Spirit divides his

spiritual gifts, without mistake, and not as wewould have it, or as another would suggest, buteven as he wills. Spiritual uniformity after a

given pattern is here unthinkable. As Godclothes the lilies of the field differently, so heweaves an own spiritual garment for each one of

his children. Uniformity must be discarded, andour spiritual robe must unfold itself singly before ^

God and men.

As every precious stone has a light of its own,and no jasper can be an emerald, so in one's heart

the diamond of childship must sparkle with its

own brightness. Then only will the secret walkwith God be free, and rich, and broad, for onlyso do we appear before our God and Father in

the form, in the spiritual robe, and with the

spiritual jewels, which he has given his children.

To draw near unto God is not going in withthe crowd, but it is the approach to God in this

own, this particular, this personal, this peculiar

way, which God has appointed for us. A motherknows each of her children by their own voice,

even when she does not see them; and so doesour Father in heaven know each of his children

by their own voice, which he draws out fromthe soul.

480

89

"A SOUND OF GENTLE STILLNESS."

"To be near unto God" is not alike in everycase, but, even as with everything else thattouches life intimately, it is with *'one after

this manner, and with another after that." Theywho have drifted away in the stream of meth-odism, have not realized this, at least they havenot acknowledged it, and hence the danger in

methodism of barrenness in spiritual things.

Always doing outside things, always zealous laborand toil for Jesus, but so little sound of gentle

stillness, in which the secret walk is enjoyed.

Because of our sin there is always danger of

fatal onesidedness, even in holiest things. Thereis sickly mysticism, which sits down by itself

and accomplishes nothing. And by the side of it

methodism, which is never at rest, and which in

being over-busy at length has neither ear nor eyefor the inwardness of the holy walk of a savedsoul with God. And therefore, the mystic hassomething to learn from the methodist, and themethodist from the mystic. Only from the im-pulse of both does blessed harmony arise.

By itself a mystical search after the Divineis by no means yet ' Christian. The heathen in

Asia practice it, even on a large scale, and thoughit has mostly disappeared from Islam, it has beenpracticed there, and it is still known among theSufi in Persia and by the Dervishes in AsiaMinor. But to bear the Christian stamp nearnessto God must be through the atonement andrelation with the mediator. "The Father and I

481

will come and make our abode with them" (John14:23). And this excludes from the search after

God and from being near unto him, the alwayskilling uniformity. In this sacred domain imita-tion leads to nothing but selfdeceit. All mystic-ism of soul, which seeks and finds God, realizes

that there is fixedness and unvariable sameness in

God's unchangeableness, but the reflection of

what is Unique and Eternal in God, which is cast

into the human soul, cannot be and never is thesame, because one soul differs from another soulin nature, disposition and utterance. For this

reason every soul has a history of its own, fromwhich special needs and talents arise.

Hence it is not corect to infer from Elijah's

experience at the cave, that the Lord only reveals

himself in ''A sound of gentle stillness" (I Kings19:12 R. V. Marg-re<ading) . The commlissionthat was given to Elijah, shows differently . Hewas commissioned to annoint Jehu, to which wasadded the saying: "Him that escapeth the Swordof Hazael shall Jehu slay: And him that escapethfrom the sword of Jehu shall Elisha slay" (I Kings19:17). There never was a bolder fanatic thanJehu. Not in the fire, and not in the storm, butin a sound of gentle stillness, does not say byany means, that Moses did not find God in thefire of Horeb, nor David in the storm of per-

secution by Saul. It only states, that for Elijah,

at that moment and in the mood in which hefound himself, the heat had first to be cooled,

and the storm in his heart had first to spenditself, before he was able to meet God in a soundof gentle stillness, and to receive his propheticcommission. On Carmel it was fire and it was

482

storm, and if ever and anywhere, it was onCarmel that Elijah beheld the presence of the

majesty of the Lord.The impossibility of making a rule regarding

nearness to God, that shall apply to all cases,

extends so far, that a selfsame rule for all of

life, even with one and the selfsame child of God,is unthinkable. He who is old and full of dayshas known the years of manly strength, and backof these the years of j^outh, and back of theseagain the days of childhood. And let himspeak, w^ho during these four periods of his

life has known something of the sacred, hiddenwalk with God, and he will confess that in eachof these four periods it was different. In generalindeed there was progress, but yet in such a way,that now as man he longs at times for the returnof the days of his childhood, that he might thebetter understand the saying of Jesus regardingchildren: "Of such is the Kingdom of heaven."This makes it such a profanation of the sacred,

when we parents have no eye for the peculiar

character of the life of the soul of a child, andby our heavy oppressive forms ignore the sym-plicity. the brightness and enthusiasm of the child.

The spiritual training of a child starts withfaith that God operates in the child, or at least

can operate in him. But at the same time, thatthe Holy spirit doeth this "as he wills'' (I Cor.12:11). Without this spiritual insight it is im-possible to be a mother, father, older sister orbrother, yea, even a nurse-maid or a teacher of

children, in its higher sense. Love of childrenwrongly applied blights so much in the heartof the child which otherwise ^.ould bloom

483

luxuriantly. And as with the child, so it is withthe lad and the young daughter. In every periodof life there is an own form of life of the soulwith its own needs. He who understands this

pleases and disciplines, supports and strengthensthe child, and leads him to God, and so makesgains for God. While he who always endeavorsto apply the model of his own condition of soul

to that of the child mars development and dwarfsit.

It is not othenvise with the great difference

which God has ordained between man and woman.There are men who make one think of a woman,and among women in our times ambition gainsground not only to develop themselves moreindependently, which is right, but also to obtainthis development in a form like to man; whichgoes against Divine appointment.. But apartfrom these eccentricities, every one feels, andknows that the soul-life of women bears anotherstamp, and is differently strung of God, than thesoul-life of men. Perceptions, powers, feelings,

talents differ. The lily is not inferior to the palm-tree, but is has received another beauty, anotherglorj^ of God. The same sun in Go(l,s heavenworks different effects upon one plant than uponanother.

,

And so it is with regard to being near to Godon the part of the man, and being near to God onthe part of the woman. It is the one Sun of

righteousness which works differently upon each.The mother, the father, who looks upon son anddaughter as one, and does not treat them differ-

ently sometimes spoils so much which with moreintelligent insight would bloom gloriously. Only

484

father and mother can suffice for the mixedfamily, and where either of the two falls away,the task of the remaining one of making dueallowance for the difference of nature and dis-

position of son and daughter is extremely dif-

ficult. This applies as well to man and wife

especially when one has made farther advancesin the way of salvation than the other. Thepious wife who longs to win the hesitating husbanddefeats her own purpose, when she aims to

graft her feminine soul-life upon him ; likewise the

husband who for the sake of winning his wife

for God tries to drive her in the spiritual yokeof his own masculine life, is himself the cause of

his bitter disappointment. The husband shouldindeed strengthen the wife spiritually, and accus-

tom her to storm and fire,, and the wife should re-

fine the husband spiritually, and accustom him to

the sound of gentle stillness, but the fundamentaltrait of the proper soul-life of each must remaininviolate. The wife lives near unto God differ-

entl}' from the husband.

A similar difference characterizes the several

conditions in which we find ourselves. Take the

ecclesiastical conflict. In this struggle there is

a period of necessary and unsparing resistance

against everything that desecrates God's covenant.But after victory is won, there comes a time of

calm and peace, of quiet work for God's King-dom, in the struggle against sin, misery and woe.And it is frequently observed, that men who in

the first period nobly persevered, and showed in

themselves men full of the Holy Ghost, in thenext period of rest and peace, visibly retrograded,

and deserted their former spiritual vantage-ground.

485

And as in ecclesiastical affairs so it is in the

struggle of our own life, in the difference be-

tween rising superior to one's sins and fainting

in the face of too great temptation. All this

creates a difference of conditions, of circumstances,

of sensations, of experiences of soul; and woeto him who amidst all this, has only one string

to the harp of his soul.. Our heart has beenrichly strung of God, and for every turn in life

the heart must be able to play another string,

for the sake of the honor of God and the com-fort of our hidden man.

The example of Elijah shows that God himselfcounts with this, and after the nature of ourstate approaches our heart from different angles.

He alone who has a listening ear for this, whoadapts and disposes himself accordingly, and is

inwardly so richly disposed, that he seeks after

God at any gate which it may please God in

those circumstances to open for him, will notonly feel himself "to be near unto God," in all cir-

cumstances, but will also in every circumstanceenjoy it most richly. At one time in quietmeditation, at another in bitter conflict, nowgoing out, then coming in, but at all times it

will be vital, inspiring and strong.

God's seeking to draw our soul unto himselfand to open it for himself, is changeable as theseasons in which nature undergoes the workingsof the sun. And therefore he who spiritually

knows only one season of year, becomes impover-ished. He who follows after, in the changeswhich God brings upon him, is the rich child of

the rich Father who is in heaven.

486

90

"THOU DIDST MAKE ME TRUST WHENI WAS UPON MY MOTHER'S

BREASTS."

The secret walk with God is not only different

for one child of God than for another, but the

difference is inwardly connected with individual

disposition, character, nature and temperament.Where there are two persons who live close to

God, one not only doeth it differently from the

other, but the way and manner in it of each,

is related with his condition and frame of soul

and even of body. To be near unto God cantherefore never be imitated. It is no lesson that

can be learned by heart. Every one must seek

his own way to God, until by Divine grace hefinds it. To be near unto God can never be any-thing else than the outcome and the fruit of ourown personal spiritual life. If then it shall bereal, and no imitation, it is bound to assume aform of its own, which entirely corresponds to

our nature, and which would not do for another.

Let this first of all comfort you and put youat ease. It frequently happens, that a dear, true

but very plain child of God hears others tell

of a walk with God, which he can not grasp,

or that he reads of Augustine and others, whocommuned with the Eternal Being in a mea-sure and form that far, very far transcends his

own experience. This makes him doubt whetherhe will ever himself come near unto God. Suchit can never be with him and yet, such the

hidden walk must be. In this way Satan detains

the souls of the humble. For it is not so. With

487

Augustine, that great spirit, it must needs be so

and not otherwise, and ^or this very reason it

never can and never will be so with the humbleand the plain. As it was with Augustine or Calvinwould not meet their case.

But next to this comforting thought, it con-tains a strong stimulus and a spur. It imposesthe obligation to produce from one's own beingand in connection with one's own spiritual existence

and life of the soul an own form for the hiddenwalk with God. It will not do to saj^: I cannever attain the height of an Augustine. Justbecause j^ou are not an Augustine, it will notdo to imitate him. For you are called of God,and you are bound, to seek from and for your-self, this own and only path, by which you,and no one else, can attain the hidden walk,and continue in it. This does not mean to saythat there ma\' be no blessing in learning howothers have sought and found it, or that readingwhat some great spirits have written about their

nearness to God maj^ not inwardly edify us.

Even the humblest poet can learn from Bilderdykand DaCosta. The humblest artist-painter canprofit by the works of Rubens and Rembrandt.All this can be productive of great good. Only,as 'one and the selfsame bread forms an ownblood in every individual constitution, and main-tains an own life of the nerves, thanks to theinner workings, so also it is one sacred materialon which many subsist, but alwaj'^s in this way,that with every individual the inner spiritual

feeding has a process of its own, and leads to anown result.

Not only in the case of Paul, but also of

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Jeremiah and David the Scripture describes thisparticular character of every individual's hiddenwalk with the Eternal Being. Although Psalm 22bears a strongly marked Messianic character, andalthough this song of the most grievous woeonly attains its fullest significance in its applica-tion to the Man of Sorrows, it would be mislead-ing, if we did not take it as an interpretation ofDavid's own experience, and if we did not applyit to the Psalmist first.

As St. Paul declares, Gal. 1:15, that it hathpleased God to separate him from his mother'swomb, and to call him by his grace, and as it

reads in Jeremiah (1:5) "Before I formed theein the belly I knew thee; and before thou camestforth out of the womb, I sanctified thee," so alsoDavid confesses that the Lord's interest in himbegan before he was bom. "For thou art he,"sang he in Ps 22:9, "that took me out of thewomb: Thou didst make me trust when Iwas upon my mother's breasts: I was cast uponthee from the womb. Thou art my God frommy mother's belly."

Entirely apart from the deeper significance ofthese words when applied to the Messiah, it wasfroni the life of David's own soul that this con-viction sprang regarding his own walk with God,and it should not be lost from sight, that entirelyapart from his calling as the elect servant of theLord, he apphes it altogether in a general senseto the forming and creation of a human being."Thou hast covered me in my mother's womb. Iwill praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonder-fully made, marvellous are the works; and thatmy soul knoweth right well. My substance was

not hid from thee, when I was made in secret

and curiously wrought in the lowest part of theearth. Thine eyes did see my substance, yetbeing unperfect; and in thy book all my memberswere written, which in continuance were fashioned,when as yet these was none of them." Psalm 139:

13-16). This was said apart from David's special

calling in an altogether general way, and thechurch has never hesitated, in singing Psalm 139,

to apply this to herself.

Thus, in order to form a just estimate of thebeginning and the development of our hiddenwalk with God, we have to go back not merelyto our conversion, but back of this to our con-ception and to our birth. The way in whicheach one of us shall find his own, personal walkwith God, was written in God's book, in days be-fore we were born.

If it is said that Jeremiah and Paul did notstate this fact in connection with their personalinitiation into communion with God, but verydistinctly in connection with their special call-

ings, one as prophet, and the other as apostle,

it is readily granted. But on the other hand it

is equally true, that for their callings, as prophetand apostle, their own personal, spiritual develop-ment was of hiehest significance. In their pro-phetic and apostolic calling they had to fight

the spiritual fight. Their official life was notlived outside of the life of their own soul. Thefact that before their conception God had fore-

ordained in them everything that they wouldneed for their calling, also implies that their

spiritual quickening, training and development hadbeen provided from God's side before their birth,

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and that in their conception and in their birth

such a human person was called into being, as

would be able to enter upon such a spiritual

condition and to fulfill such a spiritual calling.

In whatever way therefore we take it, the threestrong declarations of David, Jeremiah and Paulalways contain this positive teaching, that alreadybefore, as well as in their conception and birth,

the Lord God has ordained and created them in

such a way, both after soul and bod}^ that in

their spiritual and bodily creation every necessityhad been provided, which later on would fashionthem in this especial manner, and construct their

spiritual stature.

Applying this to ourselves, we should notdoubt but that our conception and birth, quiteapart from our own as yet unconscious condition,was a work of God according to God's plan andcompass, and under his holy inworking. Thatwhich characterizes the disposition of our soul, ourgifts and talents, our form of existence, and eventhe particulars that concern our body, is no playof chance, no arbitrariness, no fate, but the planand working of our Providential God. Hencewe are not made, as we are, in order that onlylater on God might see what he might make of

us. No, everything here has been thought out.

everything here forms one whole, everything herehas been appointed from the beginning by anomniscient, fore-seeing and almighty God witha view to the appointed end, and directed at thesame time, at every point of the way, withthe view of obtaining that end.

If that final end is your eternal salvation, and

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if the spiritual life of the soul, including thesecret walk with God, leads to this end, thewhole appointment regarding the form in whichyou were to be born, both after soul and body,was of necessity directly connected with whatyou once will be as a child of God, and withthe particular wa}'' in which God will be willing

to receive you, in distinction from others, intohis holy, secret walk. If in your intercourse withpeople, you daily meet with those who have muchin common vAth you, and you with them, butnever meet with a person of whom you can say,

in every particular: "He is just like me. He is myexact double," there must be something in thedisposition of your soul and in your bodilj'

existence, which is different from that in others.

And this is not by chance, but after God's will

and appointment. And every pecuharity thatconstitutes your person, is in turn no play of

the riches of nature, but has been so disposed andnot otherwise, because each of you have to seekyour secret walk with God in your own way andafter your own method; and that you might find

that way, and walk in it, you were in need of just

such a disposition of soul, and of such naturaltemperament.Thus are you free from people, even from

pious people who press their piety upon you.But in everything, from your conception andbirth you are personally bound to God. Forconsider and do not forget in Psalm 22 it says:''Thou didst make me trust when I was upon mymother's breasts." To make one trust, in sucha way, that the soul itself trusts, is to evoke aninner working of the soul itself. David reckons

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the life of his soul from the moment when asinfant he cradled at his mother's breast.

91

"AND WORSHIP HIM THAT LIVETHFOR EVER AND EVER."

Prayer and worship are not the same. This is

felt at once when we consider the distinction

between religion in heaven and religion on earth.

Here on earth we are in all sorts of need andmisery. We endure a thousand anxieties. Westruggle with disappointment and adversity. Andevery day our life is a concatenation of needsthat call *for fulfilment. This condition of

itself impels us to make prayer and supplication,to invoke help and deliverance, to implore for

redemption and the grant of our desires. Inreligion here on earth prayer, supplication, theinvocation of higher help is entirely in place.

This is altogether different in heaven. Un-doubtedly in heaven also there is prayer, evenmuch prayer. Christ himself lives to pray for

us. But prayer in heaven, on the part of Christand of the angels and of the blessed, bears anentirely different character from our praj^er onearth. "Our Father who art in heaven, hallowedbe Thy name. Thy Kingdom come. Thy will

be done on earth as it is in heaven," can also beprayed above. The Kingdom of glory tarries.

The conflict between the power that opposes Godand Christ continues. The end is not yet.And therefore it is natural that everything in

heaven invokes this end, and prays for thecoming of the Kingdom of glory.

It is also plain that in heaven prayer is madein behalf of God's people in the earth. TheScripture teaches this clearly with respect to

Christ. That the angels remember us in their

supplication is quite certain. And that the blessed

themselves unite with Christ and the angels in

prayer for the triumph of the Kingdom of Godin the earth, can scarcely be taken in question.

But though we follow along this line as far as

scripture allows, it is self-evident, that neither

the angels nor the blessed can join us in theprayer: "Give us this day our daily bread, for-

gi\ J us our debts, and lead us not into tempta-tion, but deliver us from the Evil." The blessed

may pray that they might be clothed upon, buttheir state is not one of need, misery, lack andwant. They are blessed and drink with full

draughts from the fountain of bliss. And wherewe are permitted to look at life in the heavens,as in Revelation, we are told almost nothing else

of angels, seraphs and cherubim, and of theblessed, save that they worship. Holy, holy,

holy is the Lord of Hosts. The whole earth is

full of his glory.

If then there is this difference between religion

above and religion on earth, that with us prayerstands in the foreground, and worship in theheavens, it is of utmost importance, that wecarefully consider the character of this worship.Prayer is the search after God's nearness in ourbehalf, that he might be gracious unto us. Wor-ship is the search after God's nearness, in orderfrom our side to bring tribute unto God of praiseand honor, thanksgiving and glory. In principleone is the opposite of the other. He who praj's

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desires something from God. He who worshipsdesires that his soul and his whole being maydevote itself to God. He who prays intendsthat something shall come to us from God. Hewho worships intends that something from usshall come to God.That grace operates in worship, is self-evident,

but it is another kind of grace. It is grace, that

the infinite, almighty and self-sufficient God will

accept the magnifying of his name at the handof the creature. He is so infinitely exalted thatthe creature can not bring him anything. Andthough every voice of angel and every tongueof man were to be silent forevermore, the EternalBeing would be in need of nothing, and wouldremain sufficient unto himself. And herein is

grace that the most High God, who is in need of

nothing, will take pleasure in the songs of praise

of angels and of men, and that he grants unto themthe sacred joy of showing forth his praises. All

worship, all thanksgiving, every hymn of praise

and every tribute of honor rests upon the founda-tion of this to us impenetrable grace.

This worship and tribute of praise can at the

same time serve to make great the name of

God before our fellow-creatures, but in worship at

least this is not the intended aim. He who sings

the praises of God, can do this for the sake of

confessing his Holy Name before unbelievingmultitudes, and of winning them for God, butworship is an holy utterance of soul, which takes

place between our soul and God, and can at mostadapt itself to the worship of fellow-believers.

In its highest utterance, worship can not bemechanical. Worship only comes to pass when

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the soul loses itself in God, when, in adoration it

marvels at his virtues and his works, and of it-

self breaks forth into praises even as the .Eolian

harp emits its dulcet strains, when the wind playson its strings.

Examine now the life of your own soul andsee, not whether there is more prayer in it thanworship, but whether, together with prayer, wor-ship is accorded sufficient room of its own. Andthen, alas, it must be the honest confession of

many, that in the life of prayer, worship con-stitutes but all too meagre an element. We donot say that most people do not worship also,

but we are bold to express the surmise that theblessed joy of worship is but all too little knownand sought.

And this should not be so. He who seeksthe secret walk, he who desires to be near untoGod, should not in prayer be engaged almostexclusively with himself or with his own interests,

but when kneeling before God, he should noteven lastly be busy with God. The knowledge of

God lies in worship, far more than in prayer. Hewho prays for something, thinks first of all of

his own need and want, and he only loses him-self in his God to this extent, that with Godthere is power and might that can come to his

help in his need.. He, on the other hand, whoworships, loses himself in God, forgets himself,

in order to think of God alone, to let himselfbe illumined by the lustre of God's virtues, and tocause the reflex of God's greatness to be reflected

from his own soul, as it mirrors itself in his ador-ing and spell-bound spirit.

Onl^- when the Kingdom of Glory shall have

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been ushered in, shall we, on the new earth andunder the new heaven, together with all God'sangels, do nothing else. At present, need andwant continuously bring prayer to the lips. Andyet, woe be to him, woe be to her, who alreadyhere, has not some knowledge of that real life,

which finds its blessedness in worship.Let thanksgiving here be the training school.

The Reformed Confession takes the whole life

of a child of God as one of gratitude, and givingthanks is the beginning and continuance of all

worship. 0, who would not daily pray for theforgiveness of sins ; but it is dreadful when earnestthanksgiving for pardon obtained on Golgotharemains lacking or at least does not fill the soul.

So it is with our whole life. There is constantneed and want, and the pressure of soul fromthe depths to call upon God, that he might begracious unto us. But is there ever a moment in

prayer, when there is no occasion as well, to givethanks for grace obtained, and to honor him whogave it?

Giving thanks is not yet perfect worship. It is

worship only with respect to what God has donefor us. But he who has learned to give thanks,honest, affectionate thanks, comes of himself tothis yet far more perfect worship, which has noother desire than to glorify the majesty of God.With the heathen at times there was more worshipfor idols than is found with us for the Holy One.Is the admonition superfluous that we shall

accustom our children from the beginning not onlyto pra3\ but also to giving thanks and to worship?There is nothing so effective in bringing the soul

near unto God as worship„

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92

"THE BODY IS NOT ONE MEMBER,BUT MANY."

Christ is your King. He has been anointedKing not merely over Zion, the mountain of his

hohness; not merely King, after the earthly Zionhad been profaned, over God's kingdom in theearth. No, Christ is also King over the personswho are subject unto him. Our personal relation

to Christ can not be expressed in a single word.It is many-sided. When we think of the guilt ofsin, which threatens doom, Christ is our Recon-ciler. When we seek safety with Christ againsttha power of sin and of temptation, he is not ourReconciler, but our Redeemer. Or when we lookto Christ for direction and guidance in the laby-rinth of life, the selfsame Savior is not ourReconciler, not our Redeemer, but our Shepherd,who has gone before us in the way, and has left

us an example.But even this does not exhaust our many-

sided relation to our Savior. For that self-sameChrist is also our glorified Head with the Father,the Lord before whom our knee must bend, andwhom our tongue must confess; and thereforethe King who has incorporated us with his people;whose subjects we have become; and in whosepalace we shall once be expected. The honorarytitle of King is even so little accidental, that thegreat plea on Golgotha is at length fought outunder it, and at the bar of Pilate the conflict

between the Emperor of Rome and the AnointedOne of God concentrated itself in the struggle for

the honor of Kingship. As announced to John

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the Divine, in Revelation, the Lamb is not aloneour Reconciler and Surety, not alone our Redeemerand Savior, and not alone the Shepherd andBishop of our soul. No, the Lamb of God—andin this antithesis you feel what strikes andirritates—the Lamb of God is also Lord of lords

and King of kings (Rev. 17:14). The Lamb withthe crown is the exalted, the holy combination of

self-effacement and dominion.Your King! But in what sense? Is earthly

kingship here the real, the actual, and is the kinglyimage of the earthly prince applied to the Savior,merely by way of comparison, by which to expresshis power and honor? Christ your King! Doesthis title of honor merely serve to have you thinkof Christ, as in a distant hamlet the man behindthe plow thinks of his sovereign in the royal resi-

dence? This is to him a secret and mysteriouspower, expressed in the image on a coin, but for

the rest it is a power which remains foreign tohim, a power far off, of whose splendor and lustre,

of whose glory and pomp, he can form no faint

idea, but which he honors from afar. A sovereignin the glorious palace, but who is unapproachableby him, to whom he pays tribute because he is

his subject, and for whom, if he is pious, he inter-

cedes in his daily prayer.

And truly, there is likeness here. Christ also is

enthroned in a palace of glory, even in such apalace, that all royal pomp on earth pales beforethe splendor of its greatness. The subject of Jesusalso sacrifices for his king his child in Divineservice, his money in the labor of love, his strengthin what must be done in behalf of his kingdom.This King also has his throne afar off, and here

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on earth the King of God's kingdom can not beseen. But with this the likeness ends. ThatChrist is your king is as a figure of speech, sohttle derived from earthly princes that on thecontrary the kings in the earth are only image-bearers of his glory, and that true, real, actualkingship is never realized in a prince on earth,

but is known in Christ alone.

Head, Lord and King are but three rays of theselfsame glory. Head points to the inner relation-

ship and sodality of your life, existence and innerbeing, with the life, existence and being of yourSavior, Lord expresses that Christ owns you,that you are his property, that you belong to him,that he has redeemed you from the power of

Satan, and that he has bought you with his blood.And only in this two-fold relation, because he is

your Head and Lord, he is also your King, whohas taken you up into his Kingdom, incorporatedyou with his people, made you sharer in his lot,

and rules you by his royal law of life. You are

his subject, but only because thereby you are amember of the body of which he is the head.This seems at first hearing an enigmatical union,

but it is one which beautifully explains itself

when that body, and in it the significance of thehead, and what under the head every member is,

is clearly understood. Imagine man, to take aperfect instance, as in paradise he came forthfrom the hand of God. The clean, pure, beauti-ful body, and in that body the several members,in which it revealed itself, and its noble head, withthe fullness of facial expression, with the fine,

expressive features, with the animation thatuttered itself in them. Thus only can we have

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the image before us of the body of Christ, of themembers in that body, and over all these mem-bers, the glorious Head.The image here, however, is not merely the

human body. Body in this connection rather indi-

cates in a broader sense what we more commonlycall an organism, even in the sense in which ananimal also is an organism, and the plant anorganism, and as we apply the figure of a bodyor of an organism to all sorts of association of

man with man. Thus we speak of a corporation(which is nothing else than a body) signifying

thereby all sorts of unions, societies and confed-erations that are formed. So we say that thefamily has an organic existence. So we speak of

the body of the state, and of the body of thepeople. And for this reason, and in this connec-tion, we call him who directs such a corporation,the head of such a corporation, or the head of

the body of the state. It is even the rule to call

those who belong to such a society or body, mem-bers of the society, or members of the church. Tobecome a member of a nation, is to become in-

corporated in that nation.

And this is the figure of speech which the holyapostle applies to Christ and his people. Theorganism of the plant also renders service here.

Did not Jesus say: "I am the true vine, and yeare the branches?" And does not St. Paul speakof having become one plant with Jesus? It is

always the one effort, to make it tangible andclear, that Jesus' Kingship is no external dominionover us from without, but that before we becomesubjects of Jesus, we are linked into his life, andthat with the thread of life itself, if we may so

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express it, we are bound to him; so that it is oneblood of hfe that circulates in him and in us; andthat it is one spirit of life that animates us andhim unto life. Yea, that as little as the head canbe moved from one place into another, but the

foot, the hand, the eye and the ear go with it

—

so also every vital movement of our King of itself

stirs also in us, and puts us into motion with him.Thus Christ is our King, because of itself and of

necessity the members follow the body, and the

body goes wherever the head directs it.

93

"LORD, TEACH US TO PRAY."

If the temper of the soul were harmonious, youwould never feel nearer unto God than in prayer,

and in prayer you would never be far away fromGod. To pray and not be near unto God, rightly

interpreted, is impossible. And yet what prayeris not made each day in every city and village,

yes, we may say in every house, again and againin which the soul never for a moment comes underthe overwhelming impression of standing beforethe face of God. Sin weakens our inner life in

all sorts of ways. Hence the mainspring of thelife of the soul can not properly operate as weshould ardently wish it might. Then we feel that

we can not pray. Yet we do not want to neglect

prayer. So we fold our hands and stammer ourpetitions. But when the Amen has been said, wefeel discouraged by the lack of elevation and in-

spiration that has marred our devotions.Apart from leading others in prayer, every one

must and can pray, and yet to pray well is an

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exceedingly difficult art, or rather it is a sacred

action, which demands the utmost clearness,

urgency and readiness of soul. But to pray well

must never become art, or else it ceases to beprayer. The disciples realized this, and whenthey had witnessed once again the sacred act, thatJesus, having gone a little distance from them,had separated himself in prayer to the Father,they were so impressed with the sense of theirown inability to pray that, on the return of Jesus,one of them said unto him: "Lord, teach us topray, as John also taught his disciples" (Luke11:1).

An over-spiritual child of God, in our days,would perhaps have turned away such a requestwith a rebuke. For everyone must pray of him-self, and what value can a memorized prayer havebefore God? But Jesus was not so over-spiritual.He never prayed otherwise than of himself. Buthe understood how difficult true prayer must befor us who are sinners, and though his discipleswere to be the teachers and leaders of the churchin all ages, he appreciated the request that heshould teach them how to pray, and so he gavethem to pray the Our Father in his own heavenlylanguage.

He did not say: "Pray after this manner." Hedid not give them the Our Father as an example,how to pray. No, the Lord expressly said: "Whenye pray, say." John, too, had evidently given hisdisciples such a formulary prayer. And so Jesusalso gave his disciples a prayer in a fixed form, aprayer evidently intended and appointed to beprayed by them all together. For the form is in

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the plural: Our Father, our daily bread, ourtrespasses.

In all ages, in all her forms, the Church of

Christ has been true to the Our Father. And in

our liturgy our fathers also have not only adoptedfixed prayers for public worship, but have alwaysordered the use of "Our Father" in the congrega-tion of believers. But since the eighteenth centurythis has been discarded. Particularly from Scot-land the influence has come in, to put everythingaside that had the appearance of a fixed form,and to prescribe in church none other than thefree prayer of the leader. This aim was high.

But was it not too high, and has not over-spirituality worked all too grievously an injury tothe spiritual?

Undoubtedly, the highest end is attained when,independent of every aid, from the free impulseof the Spirit, the soul lifts itself up to God, andon the wings of the Spirit, spreads itself beforeGod in sacred, devotional language. Such glor-

ious moments are not infrequent in the prayer-life. And it is plain that in such moments eventhe Our Father is not sufficiently concrete todirect the soul in its utterance before God. Butin all seriousness, how many among the great andsmall in the congregation have risen to thesesacred heights. And, if there are such, how manyare the moments of a long day, when they are in

such sacred and exalted moods? We must needsreckon with reality. And think not only of your-self, but have a tender consideration for the poorsheep in the church and in your own home, whosespiritual standing is still low, and who yet needsmust pray, and for whom it is no less glorious

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than for you, when in prayer they come a Httle

nearer unto God, and may perceive something of

his holy presence. How much higher did not the

apostles of Jesus stand than we, and yet for themJesus deemed a memorized prayer so little aim-

less or superfluous, that he himself gave them one.

It is true, every written prayer leads to abuse.

But would you think that Jesus has neither fore-

seen nor known, to what abuse even the OurFather would lead? And yet he gave it to his

disciples. Nothing can be so holy, but our in-

firmity and sin will turn it to abuse. Baptism is

abused. The Lord's supper is abused. TheScripture is abused. Must everything then becondemned because of this? Prayer also places

a painful choice before us. Say that only the

Spirit's prayer from one's own soul is acceptable

before God, and forsooth, there will be no moreabuse. But, then, there will also be thousands of

families where no more prayer will be said, andall remembrance of it will gradually be lost. Butrestore the use in its fixed form, and of necessity

the muttering with lips will ensue, in which the

soul has no part. Not in every case, praise God,but with many, and thus many a prayer is pro-

faned.Standing before this choice, many incline to

say: "In that case let the rest go without prayer,

provided there are a few who pray aright. Inany case cut off the work of the lips, in whichthere is no heart." And yet we may not say this.

What Jesus spake to his disciples excludes this.

Let us be more humble. Let us acknowledge, that

even the congregation of the Lord occupies too

low a viewpoint for what is so deeply spiritual,

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and that, if prayer is to be maintained, if it shall

continue to be a power in the whole church, inevery home, for every member of that home, for

great and small alike, both must be practiced; aswell the prayer from one's own soul, as the writtenprayer which all can pray, because all have beeninstructed in its use.

Our praise in hymn and psalm would also be of

an higher order if every one of us were born poetsand if we never sang hymns from a book, butalways from our own inspiration and impulse.But this we do not do. We can not. We are

no poets. And no public praise would be possible

if the same hymn were not sung together. Thisalso leads to abuse. Hynm upon hymn is sungby more than one person in the congregation withthe lips, in which the soul has no part. But whowill for this reason banish hymns and psalms fromworship in God's house? This would be a reach-ing out after overspirituality which would meandeath to public worship.But there is still a more significant reason. Do

we not know from experience that when the soul

seeks to draw near unto God, nothing at times is

more helpful than to repeat to oneself some in-

spired verse from the Psalms, which we havelearned when a child, and which by its devotionallanguage of itself takes us out of our ordinaryworld of thought and lifts up the soul to God?When we wanted to pray, and prayer would notcome, has not the Our Father frequently been thegrateful means of bringing us into the prayerful

mood? The Scripture also is a formulary, andalways remains the same. And is not reading of

Scripture before prayer continually the means that

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not only enables us to pray, but to pray in suchsacred terms as to carry the soul with them?A twofold cause here operates. First, lan-

guage. Prayer and praise have a language of

their own. This language does not rise of itself

from every soul. There have been those whowere specially gifted with this. Is it not naturalthat they, who sing after David, and who prayin the words of Paul, feel that this helps andelevates them, and brings them further than of

themselves they ever could have come? Butthere is still something more. Words of prayer,and elevations of praise, which from youth havebeen with us in life, impart to our utterance of

soul a steadiness which strengthens, and makesus inwardly devout. And when in addition to this

we realize that these wonderful words of prayerand elevations of praise are not only familiar tous, but that they are now, and have been in all

ages, the language of God's children, it is asthough some portion of the precious ointment of

Aaron has been poured out upon it all, the sweetfragrance of which refreshes the heart.

The aim of the seeking always is to experienceunder it all the blessed nearness of God. Well,then, the Our Father also, when it is quietly, rest-

fully and solemnly said, opens the gate of heavento the soul. Psalm language of itself carries thesoul upward. Everything that lends our wander-ing, and frequently impotent soul the support ofthe sacred Word, lifts us up into a higher mood.Moreover, everything in prayer and praise thatmakes us experience the communion of all God'ssaints and fellowship with our own more godlypast, places a protecting power by the side of the

507

power of the world that aims at keeping us far

distant from God.The benediction also at the close of public

worship might easily be composed by eachpreacher for himself. That this is not the case,

that in the benediction at least a fixed form has

been maintained, is a gain to be thankfully

acknowledged. Now the preacher can put noth-

ing into it of himself. He is forgotten thereby,

but just because he steps into the background,the benediction affects us as a gentle dew of grace

which comes to us from God.

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''AS IN HEAVEN."

For the soul ''to be near unto God" implies, that

we lift up ourselves with mind and heart fromour everyday surroundings into the sphere of the

Divine Majesty. This is what, in language of

Scripture, the Sursum Corda has become, namely:the impulse to lift up soul and mind unto Godand to appear in the audience-chamber of his

holiness. In his infinite compassion God truly

comes down to us, to dwell with us, and with his

rod and staff to comfort us. This by itself brings

God near to us, but by no means always brings

our soul near unto God. The seeking love of

God can for long times be near unto our heart,

and can even be within it, while the heart is un-

conscious of it. An infant can be carried by God'snearness, and have no sense whatever of the

Divine Majesty. In conditions of sickness, whichdarken our consciousness of self, God's nearness

to his child is not removed. Even when in dying

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our consciousness fails us, the nearness of Godcontinues to support the soul, which he has called

unto himself.

But however closely these two are allied, theymust always be carefully distinguished. WhetherGod is near unto us, and whether we are nearunto God, is not the same. And in behalf of thelatter, not of the former, it is exceedingly impor-tant that our mind be not too closely chained tothe world of visible things, but that we shouldunderstand the sacred art of turning our mentalperception from this world into that which is

around God's throne.The soul first learns this in prayer. And it is

noteworthy that in the short form of the OurFather, Jesus repeatedly directs our thoughts tothe invisible world. At once in the address : "OurFather, who art in heaven." According to theHeidelberg catechism, this means that we shouldnot think of God in an earthly way. And this

IS correct, provided it is properly taken not as

a sound, as a word or as a term whereby to ex-

press something supermundane, but as an effort

of the soul, by which, at the very beginning of theprayer, to free itself from the embrace of earthlyinterests and to enter into the high and holyspheres that surround the throne of God. Theprayer: "Thy kingdom come," carries the sameeffect, since that kingdom can not be anythingelse than the kingdom of heaven. Hence thepetition implies, that the powers of the kingdomof heaven ought to permeate our life ever morestrongly.

Fellowship with life around God's throne, how-ever, is most clearly expressed in the third peti-

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tion: Thy will be done on earth among us as in

heaven among thy angels. Here the reference toheaven is immediate. Here both the similarityand the difference of life on earth and life inheaven is simultaneously shown. Here Jesusurges us. that in prayer, and in seeking the near-ness of God, we should acquaint ourselves withthe world of angels and of the redeemed, in orderby our relationship with their world, to strengthenour approach to God. Jesus urges us even sostrongly in prayer to bring our souls into contactwith the invisible world, that in the last petitionhe makes us sensible of the inworking that goesout upon us from the head of the fallen angels.

"Deliver us from the evil," is the petition whichreminds us that evil, that sin which springs up inour heart, is fed and inspired by a higher powerfrom the invisible world, and that God alone candeliver us from this deadly inworking. Is it thentoo much to say, that in this brief prayer of six

petitions, Jesus leads us out from the earthlysphere of visible things, and unveils to the senseof our soul clearly and strongly the reality of theinvisible world? And all for the sake that wemight the more fully and the more intimatelyenjo}^ "to be near unto God."

In Scripture, this communion with spirits fromthe invisible world, is shown in more than oneinstance to be inseparable from nearness untoGod. Only think of the vision call of Isaiah andof the Revelations on Patmos. Isaiah not onlysaw the Lord upon the throne, but also theSeraphim around it, and he heard the "Holy,holy, holy is the Lord of hosts," which with othermusic rang through the arches of heaven. On

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Patmos it was the same. There, too, the seer's

eye beheld the holy One, and also the Chenibimwho reveal God's majesty, and what is more,from ''the elders," i. e. from the circles of theblest, he heard the hymn of praise : "Thou, Lord,art worthy to receive glory and honor and power I"

And so throughout the entire Scripture there

runs a golden line of heavenly light, which brings

the prayers and the hymns of praise of God'fl

people into fellowship with the songs of praise of

angels and the redeemed. It is not only that theangels and the blest in unapproachable light, andwe on earth in our twilight, sing praises to theTrinity, but that there is a connection betweenthe voices of angels and the tongues of men.Indeed, sometimes it seems that we on earth butecho what is sung around God's throne in heaven,and that our heart only finds rest when there is

holy accord and blessed harmony between created

spirits above and the creature that on earth

thirsts after the nearness of God.But this presents the question whether this

indispensable fellowship with God's angels andthe redeemed around the heavenly throne has notbeen too much lost from sight in our circles.

That we should be on our guard against abuse in

this matter, is self-evident. Idolatry has notimprobably arisen from this search after inter-

course with the world of spirits. Even withinthe church of Christ the search after this fellow-

ship has all too frequently drawn souls away fromthe nearness of God, rather than introduced theminto his holy presence. Dealings of the soul, if

we may so express ourselves, with angels and theblest, have tempted anxious souls all too often

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to introduce intermediary persons between oursoul and God, to whom to look for help ratherthan to God. It is plain, therefore, that for thesake of correcting this abuse, safety was soughtin sobriety, and that with holy enthusiasm it wasundertaken not to allow oneself to be drawn awayin his prayer by anything, not even by angels,

from God himself and from immediate com-munion with God. But it can not be denied thatby exaggeration this carefulness has led to theother extreme. For is it not a fact, that in theprayers of the church, in prayer at home, and in

personal supplication, the spirit-world is almostentirely ignored, and that thereby all such prayerhas become antagonistic to the note which Jesushimself has struck in the Our Father?

In the Our Father, Jesus brings our soul againand again in touch with this higher world of

spirits, while from our pra3^er this communionhas almost entirely died away. For the sake of

avoiding the abuse of one extreme, one can easily

and of itself pass over into the other extreme, andthis is bound to injure the life of our soul. Hewho dies, knows that he will not find God andthe Savior alone by themselves, but he will find

them surrounded by a world of saints. Not aFather alone, but a Fatherhouse, and in thatFatherhouse the many mansions, and in thosemansions, with God's angels, the saints that havegone before.

And though we speak of this world of glory asof the world above, because we can not think ofit otherwise than as being far exalted above this

guilty earth, we well know that this distinction is

not a separation, and that already here on earth

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communioii with that world is possible. Whenthe Psalmist would praise God, he calls upon the

angels to praise and bless the Lord (Ps. 103) . Thereis an host of the Lord that encampeth round aboutthem that fear God. Not only Satan, the head of

fallen angels, but good angels, too, are in com-munication with our soul. And in moments of

blessed elevation of spirit the soul has been con-scious of the nearness of the good spirits of God,and it has seemed that they made us feel in amore tender and more intimate way the nearnessof our God.We undergo the same inworking for good or for

evil from men. One evil-minded person in yourenvironment can draw your soul away from God,estrange every utterance of life from God, andthrow you back into your earthly, sinful shallow-

ness. On the other hand, one devoted child of

God in your midst can effect the exclusion of

every unholy suggestion from conversation, theopening up of the soul, and the closer approachto God.Such is the case here. He who accustoms him-

self to enter into the life of the holy world of

God's angels, and already here on earth admitsthe company of the saints into the circle of theperceptions of his own soul will thereby not onlybanish evil, but will himself attain a holier mood,will feel himself supported in praise and prayer,

and will encounter far less difficulty in raising ham-self from his earthly life to the nearness of his

God.We were not created for solitariness. The

moment when, deserted of all, you have to fight

your fight alone, you feel that something un-

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natural has come upon you. Not alone, but "Withall the saints," we will come to the knowledge ofour God, and if in eternity it will be the wonder-ful exaltation of life together with all angels andall saints to glorify God forever, why, then, shouldwe forsake and neglect the glorious power whichalready here on earth can unfold in our prayer, if

by anticipation we live already here in the blesaedcommunion, which awaits us up yonder. With all

God's saints we are one body in Christ, as ourhead, but on earth we taste little of the fellowshipof the whole body of the Lord. On the otherhand, communion with saints and God's angels is

continually open to us. Blessed is he who not onlyenjoys this in his own soul, but also knows howto inspire thereby the nearness of his God.

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"STRIVING AGAINST SIN."

One who in mature years, and in his right mind,does not strive from time to time against somesin or other, can scarcely be im^^gined. Thehuman heart is an impenetrable riddle. Evenwith sneak thieves and drunkards we are oftenamazed at a coy tenderness that shows disgust

with one or more sins, which in better circles are

altogether too frequently given free passage. Butrepression of some striking sin, in the case of one-self or of others, is by no means always yet whatthe apostle calls the struggle against sin. Every-thing here depends on what occasions the struggle

against this or that sin. One will resist such a

sin from concern about his health. This is often

preponderant with respect to sensual sin. Another

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takes care of himself, because, in case his sin be-came known, it would injure his good name. Athird strives against a temptation because indul-

gence would ruin him financially. A fourth putsa mark against a given sin because in his narrowercircle of life it is sharply condemned. Only thinkof Sabbath desecration. And in this way, by all

sorts of persons, one sin or another is resisted

from reasons that have nothing to do with thereal struggle against sin. With not a few, indeed,there is no mention whatever of a consciousmotive, and all their striving against this or thatsin springs from a certain moral instinct, from thejudgment of public opinion, or from the desire to

be decent. In this way profanity has become notice-ably less in our civilized circles, but far more be-cause it is now considered coarse and uncivilized,

than from fear of the holy God.All such resistance against all sorts of sin, how-

ever, should not be judged from the heights asindifferent. Because of its very contagiousnessevery open sin is most dangerous. Apart from its

guilt before God, sin by itself is moral sickness,

and everything that opposes the outbreak orprogress of this sickness is gain. Only the struggleagainst sin in any form, without higher motive,brings no spiritual gain. David's saying: "Againstthee, thee only, have I sinned," remains the funda-mental rule. And only when we strive againstsin, because sin opposes God, does our struggleobtain the holy, the higher character.The struggle against sin, because sin strives

against God and God strives against sin, bringsus near unto God. The struggle then remains nolonger merely moral, but it becomes religious—an

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expression of godliness, and at the same time aprecious means of cherishing nearness unto God.See it in the life of nations and associations, howwaging a common war brings people together,

closely unites them, and makes connections for

the present and the future.

When France at length obtained Russia as anally, Russian sailors in Paris were almost carried

on hands. In the war of the Boers against Eng-land every Dutchman felt his heart beat in sym-pathy with that of his fellow countrymen in SouthAfrica. From fear of Russia- the English andJapanese have become brothers. The same is seenin the life of society and church. In times of

election unions arise between temporal allies,

which govern their entire future. It is seen in

every domain that nothing unites so closely, andbrings one so near to another, as the struggle

against a common foe.

The same applies to the struggle against sin,

when it is honestly carried, because sin is inimical

to God. For then God and you fight the samefight. Then this fight of itself makes you join

yourself to God. Then you do not fight alone,

but with your God. With the weapons whichGod provides for this warfare, under Christ as

your leader. And then nothing brings you sonear unto God, and keeps you there, as the life-

long continuance of the bitter fight against the

enemj^ of God, and of your own soul, and of the

soul of your loved ones.

And then it is not a life-struggle against oneparticular sin, but against sin, i. e. against all sin-

ful influences, inspirations and workings, which goout from Satan upon yourself and your entire

616

surrounding. Indeed, there are bosom-sins, andit is no minor fault, when the heart is so little

known to itself, that no confession can be madebefore God of the sin that most assaults and con-quers self. And it cannot fail but that everyonewho takes his private life seriously is more par-ticularly on his guard against certain definite sins,

and in his thoughts and prayers is more engagedwith these, than with other sins. His stniggle

directs itself most against that evil which over-came and injured him most. And in memorythereof the shame and sorrow because of defeat in

the struggle against this particular sin, will intrudethemselves most strongly upon him. It was this

sin which inflicted the most cruel wound, and left

behind the blackest mark.But do not fail to observe the danger which

this implies. For is it not heart-breaking to see

the number of lesser sins in their character towhich even earnest Christians are stone blind?And the burden of this guilt rests for no smallpart upon this one-sided striving against a par-

ticular, great sin. Where a greater dangerthreatens, all sorts of lesser dangers that mightharm are of themselves almost lost from sight.

When a loved one lies at the point of death, noone inquires after the concerns of cellar andkitchen. When a rynaway horse races through thestreets, no one is on the lookout for muddy places,

but makes himself scarce. When fire breaks outin the house, no one attends to the draught froman opei window. In saving a man from drowning,no one is concerned about the incidental tearing of

clothes. When war breaks out, of itself all sorts

of other quarrels, however important, are silenced.

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And thus a more serious evil will always causethe struggle against a lesser evil to weaken.And such is also the case with respect to the

soul. When the struggle is continued to resist

and to repel the particular sin which tempts onethe most strongly, a number of other sins havealmost free play and their progress is unnoticed.He who perseveres in the main fight againstarrogance and pride, against sensual propensity,or avarice, is thereby exposed to the danger thatlittle untruths, dishonesties, infidelities, bitter-

nesses, vanities, selfishnesses and so much more,become almost a second nature, strike root in his

heart ever more firmly, and soil his inner life.

This is only discovered when at last the chief

enemy has been as good as worsted. Then tender-ness of conscience begins immediately to workwith these erstwhile neglected sins, and one is

frightened at the sight of the luxurious growth of

weeds in the garden of the heart.

And to what cause can this sad outcome beattributed save to this, that one struggled bravelyindeed to free himself from his worst enemy, bututterly lost sight of the struggle against sin,

because God strives against it. It continued to bean effort to set one's person free, to measure his

strength of spirit and will against the strength of

this particular sin; dissatisfaction with self, in

case of defeat, and the determination not to rest

until victory was gained. But all this went onoutside of the secret walk with God. Divine helpwas invoked to worst the enemy of the soul, butthere was no awakening of soul to beat off, as apoisonous adder, the enemy of our God. And,therefore, such a struggle could not bring you

518

nearer unto God, but every time threw you backupon j^ourself.

Should we then give up the struggle against

the sin that tempts us most, that we might resist

the numerous lesser sins? By no means. He wholeaves the main entrance to a fortress unprotectedmerely to repel assaults at the side entrances, will,

when presently attacked from behind, have to give

up all further resistance. No, what you should

do, is, with an eye open to the moral danger that

threatens, by a far more serious exertion of

strength, the sooner the better to make an endof the struggle against your chief sin, not by giv-

ing it free play, but by breaking with it once andfor all. Thus alone will 3^ou obtain a free hand,in the Lord's strength, to bring spiritual harmonyin the further discords of the soul. That this is

possible is evident from the witness borne by manya disciplined child of God, who at length has puton the whole armor of God, and has triumphedgloriously. The mistake is, that one makes his

leading sin his bosom sin, and then views it as

an evil which by some fatality he is bound to

resist until death. The enigma of our humanheart is, that we resist our main sin most con-

tinuously and at the same time cozen it. Aduality within, in which, through lack of heroic

action, we accustom ourselves to what is deemedto be a necessity of life.

Then it is not the spirit within us, which, united

with the Spirit of God, fights in our soul the fight

of God against sin, for the sake of God, but a

ience. This evil, however, must be broken. It

must become a life-struggle against every sin

and against the sinful nature, for the sake of the

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holiness of God. In order to come nearer untoGod, the child of God must take service underChrist in the warfare which God himself wagesagainst Satan and his works, and thus obtain atwofold result: that whereas hitherto he suffered

defeat, now he conquers, and that whereas he thusfar wandered away from God, now he knows him-self to be near unto God.

96

"LIVE IN PEACE."

When Asaph wrote: "But it is good for me tobe near unto God," and thereby expressed in

words a deep utterance of soul, which age uponage has found an echo in thousands of hearts,

life had many more advantages for those whosought the Lord than it has for us now. In theEast, where Asaph lived, it is still the custom that

every event in life is put into relation with God;that in everything God is remembered, and the

name of God is named. There is so much that

draws us away from God, and therefore, pious

usage prescribed, that from early infancy the child

should be trained to remember God in every eventof life. This is still the custom under Islam,

where it is overdone, even to the extent that it

must give rise to abuse.

But there is something attractive in the habit.

The call to prayer from the pinnacle of theminarets has the same tendency. Where there

is so much that draws us away from God andkeeps us far removed, a counterpoise was soughtin life by which to bind the soul to God. TheChristian church did the same in the middle

520

ages. The ringing of bells, the stations of thecross, crucifixes, and so much more, all tended toquicken the thought of Christ. And in the ageof the Reformation our fathers tried to reach thesame end by putting prayer in between every-thing, by multiplying church services, and by theeffort to sanctify every event of life in God. Notonly testaments, but also contracts of rents werebegun in the name of God. On coins the wordsappeared, "God with us," or, as in the UnitedStates of America, "In God we trust," and wher-ever it was possible God's holy name was broughtto remembrance. An atmosphere prevailed in this

which was pregnant with something of the holy,

sometimes even too much so. To this was addedthat in the days of Asaph and of our fathers thereligious undulation was far stronger, and relig-

ion occupied a far broader place in life.

But we have everything against us. In society

life the name of God is scarcely ever mentioned.No bells are rung. An entirely different world of

thoughts fills minds and hearts. He who tries

to keep up sacred usages is criticized as beingold-fashioned, if he is not scorned. A life divestedof God and his name is most desired. And as

regards religious undulation, it still continues in

small circles, but the tidal wave of life goes,

purely materially, for money and sensual pleasure.

In such a time "to be near unto God" requires adouble effort, and nothing should be neglected,

neither positively nor negatively, that here mayhave effect. Positively every means should bepersistently applied to engage the soul with Godeach day for a longer period of time and withgreater intimacy; and negatively by opposing and

resisting everything that hinders or prevents ourcommunion with God.Does the church of Christ understand the great

interest that is here at stake? Can it be said,

that an effort is in evidence, at least within thechurch, to pursue this exalted aim? As one means"to be near unto God," the Apostle indicates a''life in peace." His exhortation runs: "Be ofone mind, live in peace, and the God of love andof peace shall be with you" (II Cor. 13:11). Andyet this peace is continually broken. Let us bewell understood. It does not say, that there mayno differences arise, nor that with every difference

safety must be sought in indifference. Paul didnot do this. No, the point in question is thespirit in which differences are faced and settled.

A twofold impulse may have play. On one side

the holy impulse, in the face of differences to bedoubly on our guard, that love shall suffer noless, and that no unholy word shall escape ourlips or pen. But also on the other side the un-holy impulse, in the face of differences to allowone's bitter mind free play, to give one's passionto annoy free rein, and to inflict whatever painone can. With the first, one puts himself in anatmosphere of love and peace. With the second,one breathes an atmosphere of bitterness andanger.

In the church it is the same as in the family.

Between husband and wife, between parents andchildren, and between children among themselves,differences continually arise. It can not be other-

wise. Interests, insights and endeavors run in

opposite directions. But see the difference be-

tween one family and another. In the family

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that is of a noble mind, a limit is put upon these

differences, a spirit of love prevails, which of

itself opens a way of escape. And where lovedwells, the Lord commands this blessing, thathearts remain united. But next to this, alas, howmany families there are in which pains are notspared to measure out the difference as broadly as

possible, to put the sharpest arrow, as long as it is

not poisonous, on one's bow, and where again andagain husband and wife, parents and children,

brothers and sisters face one another like furies.

This is always the same antithesis which we haveindicated. This* sinful earth brings us no world,

no family or church, without differences or dis-

putes. But it all depends whether a dispute in

family or in church finds an atmosphere of loveand peace, or one of bitterness and anger.

And now the Apostle points out that cherishing

the atmosphere of love and peace is not only aChristian duty, which brings gladness and com-fort into life, but that it Js also a necessaryrequisite for the cultivation of life in fellowship

with God. A child of God can, and indeed must,be near unto God. and live in communion withGod. even amid conditions of restlessness andstrife. He who perseveres obtains this blessed

end. But, 0, it is made thereby unspeakablymuch more difficult. Where the atmosphere that

surrounds us is charged with evil electricity, andthe tongue can not be held in leash, and discord

rends the robe of love, and the passion of strife

breaks loose, everything draws the heart awayfrom communion with its God. There the peaceof God, that passeth all understanding, can notfill the soul. There is no calm there and no in-

523

ward restfulness to lift oneself up from this

earthly sphere into the world above, and to enjoythe bliss of nearness unto God. And then in twoways harm is done. First, you fail of one of themost precious means of being near to God; andagain you become subject to the dominion of anelement that inserts itself with separating effect

between you and your God.A gently tempered mmd can, with respect to

this, be a blessing to a whole family, to a wholecommunity; and a mind that is poisoned with thebitterness of gall can spoil the tone and spirit of

an entire family and an entire community, andmake godliness therein to suffer bitter loss. Ofevery thoughtless and unholy word, and also of

every bitter and irritable frame of mind, accountmust once be made before God. For do not for-

get, that nothing trains the mind and heart soeffectively as the custom and the habit whichform and govern the condition and the mood of

heart and mind.If you have once acquired the habit of holding

yourself back and of self-control, and when Satanplaces poison into your hands, at once to reach outfor the alabaster box of precious ointment, the

struggle becomes gradually easier, the effort to

encourage stillness more lovely, and the joy of

having cultivated peace and love increasingly rich.

If, on the other hand, you give way to yoursharpness, to your passion, to your bitterness of

mind, you lose more and more the power of self-

control, and create for yourself and your sur-

roundings unspeakable harm and wTong.The peace of which the apostle speaks has noth-

ing to do with sentimentalism, with lack of cour-

624

age to speak, with being blind to wrong practices.

Mere sentimental goodness is no sacred art, butcowardice. But this is sacred art: to stand strong

and courageous, in everything, and yet so to takehold of things, deal with them, and settle them,that no unholy spark starts fire in your own mind,and that you do not disturb for a moment the

inward peace of those who are around you.He whose piety is more appearance than reality,

cares for none of these things. But he who strives

unto the end in every way to keep sacred his

secret walk with God, and to be continually nearunto God, can offer no resistance to the stress of

this apostolic word. He feels in his own soul that

the atmosphere of love and peace makes himdwell near unto God, and therefore he flees fromthe sphere of strife and unrest, because it drawshim away from God.

"A DECEIVED HEART HATH TURNEDHIM ASIDE."

The world, our environment, our business, yea,

and what not, as a rule leads us away from God.This means that it takes definite effort, in themidst of daily activities, to keep our thoughts andutterances of soul directed toward God. Therehave even been whole days of which at night onbended knee, it had to be confessed that the mindand soul had not once been lifted up to God. Topicture this in brighter colors than the case war-rants, will not do. Thus and not otherwise is

the sad reality with many whole days of life in

which God has had no remembrance. We were

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too busy, too overwhelmed, too much divertedand preoccupied than that at night we could retire

with the blissful experience of how good it was "tobe near unto God."This is, of course, exclusively a result of the

sinful character of our earthly life, for by itself

there was no need that anything should draw usaway from God. God does not stand by the side

of things. He is in all things. From him, by him,and to him. Diversion is a necessity when tooonesidedly and too exclusively our spirit has beenengaged with one thing. This is noticed by thestaring eye, the exT)ressionless face, and the con-stant return to the same subject. And thespecialist recognizes the danger of this. Whenthe soul and the mind are directed to one thing

too onesidedly and too continuously, so that onethinks of nothing else, forgets everything else, andinvoluntarily keeps busy with the selfsame thought,there is the beginning of mental disorder, anddiversion is the proper medicine.This is not the case with thinking of God. In

the created world a number of things stand side

by side of one another, each with their own claim,

and our mind is normal when in just .proportions

we pay proper attention to them all. If this orderis broken, by thinking too much of one thing,

and too little of the other, equilibrium is goneand the spirit fails at length in its own confusion.

God, on the other hand, never stands by the side

of a created thing. It should never be ninety

parts of our attention for the creature and ten

parts for God. Neither should it be ten parts for

the world and ninety parts for God. In the full

one hundred parts of everytliing God is to be

526

worshipped. Jesus emphatically declares: Thoushalt love the Lord thy God with all thy strength,

with all thy soul and with all thy mind. In the

same way the one hundred parts of our strength

should be operative in created things. But bothshould proceed so as to enter into and permeateeach other, and together constitute one blessed

life. Thus it is in the Fatherhouse. Thus it wasin paradise. Thus it sometimes is here for the

space of one brief moment. But as a rule it is

so no longer. There is division. There is distraction.

The struggle of godliness is to oppose this division,

to resist this distraction, and j'et, at least parts

of each day and parts of each night, "to be nearunto God."What divides and distracts should be justly

estimated. With respect to this, Adam is still

inclined to put it upon Eve, and Eve to chargeit to the serpent. The world, the many activities

of life, the diversions of the moment are heldaccountable for our distractions and life withoutGod. One is busy from early morn till late night,

and in dead weariness one falls asleep, sometimesbefore prayer is said. There is no time for Godand for his service. There may be for those whoquietly remain at home, but not for the man of

business. And so life is ever held accountable,the restlessness and noise, the ever-enticing world.

Or complaint is made of the body. One does notfeel well, headaches, fevers and other troubles

keep the spirit bound. Only there is almost nocomplaint of one's own soul. And against this

Isaiah enters his striking accusation: Your de-

ceived heart hath turned you aside.

Surely the world has come in with its entice-

527

ments, life with its activities. Thereby you haveallowed your heart to be deceived. But it is notthe world, nor its activities, but your deceivedheart that has turned you aside. It has eventurned you aside to this extent, Isaiah adds, thatyour soul can no longer save itself, i. e. it can nolonger escape from its own intoxication. Isaiahdeclares this regarding the man who has an idol

for himself. A tree has been taken home. Theknotty parts have been cut off, and of the smoothpart the poor soul makes an idol. And it is notthe idol that is at fault, but the idolatrous thoughtin the soul, which had captivated the heart, beforehe made his idol. That piece of wood, that idol

is but the expression of what went on in his heart.

Not the idol, but his deceived heart turned himaside, even so effectively'' that at length he nolonger sees the difference between a piece of woodand God. Or, as the prophets put it: "He is

turned aside so far that he can not come to dis-

cover that there is a lie in his right hand" (Isaiah

44:20). This selfsame evil operates, not onlyamong the heathen, but, if in another manner,among Mohammedans, Jews and Christians. It

is a human evil. An immediate outcome of oursinful nature.

How does this show itself? Very sharply andclearly, as soon as a magnet operates upon theheart, which attracts, interests and holds theattention, and which involuntarily and of itself

again and again stimulates the soul and thesenses, fills the thoughts, animates conversationand brings one into a fanatical state of mind.This does not mean the tension and activity of

spirit, when duty, business, the course of con-

528

versation, etc., arrest the attention to itself. Onthe contrary, in this case lack of attention andneglect of due examination of the interest at stake,

is a fault; and may even be a sin. No, the idol-

atrous turning aside of one's inner self only be-comes apparent when this magnet continuouslydraws, and even without occasion, and when thedrawing does not operate from without, but fromone's own heart.

There are people who, when they come toyou, you instinctively know in advance what theywill talk about. There is but one thing that fills

their minds. One interest to which they are con-tinually awake. With one it is money, the idea of

becoming rich, of increasing gains in every way.With another it is pleasure and the desire toshine. With a third it is art, music, a concert, apiece of literature, a museum, so long as it is dedi-cated to art, and makes an artistic showing. Withanother, again, it is a scientific problem whichconstantly pursues him. With another, again, it

is politics, or society gossip, or the hunt, or sport.

In all this, spiritual sickness is symptomaticallypresent as soon as one particular interest, evenapart from special occasion, of itself engages theattention, animates and preoccupies, and rendersone dense and unsympathetic with respect toother things.

For then there is one-sided concentration of

mind upon one given point. This one thing is,

then, the main thing, to which everything else is

rendered subservient. This means to say thatthis one thing takes the place with him, which in

a normal condition of soul, is only accorded toGod. And thus it becomes idolatrous. It is the

529

one absorbing subject of thought. One never get5

through talking about it. No sacrifice is deemedtoo great in its behalf. One devotes himself to it

with all his soul and mind. Nothing higher is

known and respected. With respect to it evenbrotherhoods are formed, insomuch as one is in-

terested only in those who live in behalf of the

same interest and are absorbed by the selfsamething. With those who live like this the equilib-

rium is broken, and the highest place, which is

God's right to fill, is occupied by this other thing,

which they love with all their heart, and with all

their mind, and to which they devote themselveswith all their strength.

Now, it is self-evident, that being magnetizedin this idolatrous fashion, does not occur withChristians in this literal sense. This neither canbe so, nor is it so. He with whom this is the

case may announce himself as a Christian, but a

Christian he is not. But from this it by no meansfollows, that the child of God is not exposed to

this danger. It is even confessed, of those whohave most earnestly sought after the secret walkwith God, that no sin was so constantly at the-

door of their heart as this inclination to allowthemselves, by the workings of their own heart,

their soul and their mind, to be turned away fromGod to creaturely things or creaturely thoughts.

To be full of the Holy Ghost means, that the

desire of the heart, which goes out after God andholy things, is constant. He with whom this is

the case does not need to repress other things

from his thoughts in order that he might think ot

God. Involuntarily he thinks of God, and of othefthings only by special effort.

530

But what continually occurs, even among Chris-

tians, is the very opposite, to-wit: That of itself

all sorts of other things are subject of thought,and that only by determinate effort the soul is

engaged with God. If, now, these are every timeother, alternating things, the danger is not so

great. For then it is not one given thing thatcaptivates the heart, and the worship of Godstands high above every other interest. On theother hand, however, the danger is great when theheart allows itself to be turned aside onesidedlyto one given thing or to one special sort of things,

which enthuse us and engage the heart, for thenthey are apt again and again to take the placein the heart which belongs alone to God.You can not be near unto God and have part

in his secret walk, when involuntarily and of itself

magnetically you are every time turned asideagain to things that are finite. For then theheart has deceived itself and the deceived hearthas turned you aside. And, therefore, when youstruggle, and feel that your life is not one that is

near unto God, then cease to complain onesidedlyof the world, of your environment and of yourbusy life, as though these alone turn you asidefrom God. Rather turn in upon yourself. Spyour thoughts, conversations and perceptions.\nd when you see that not alone, and not evenaostly from without, but from these thoughtswithin there arises the diverting working, whichdisturbs your fellowship with God, and preventsyou from living near unto God, then cast downthis idol within and destroy it.

There is no room for Christ and Belial in oneand the selfsame heart. Or do you not know,

531

with St. Paul: "Do ye not know your own selves,

how that Jesus Christ is in you?" (II Cor, 13:5).

''WHATSOEVER YE DO, DO IT HEARTILY,AS TO THE LORD."

God, in his word, opposes every tendency andevery effort to break up life into two parts; onefor ourselves and one for God. He allows nodivision, no separation; no six days of the weekfor us and Sunday for God. No unconsecratedlife interspersed with consecrated moments. Nounhallowed existence through which at distancesa sacred thread is interwoven. No life apart fromreligion marked here and there with piety. No,the claim of Scripture on this point is absolute,and though it seems strange to us, the claimremains: 'Tray without ceasing;" in everythinggive thanks; rejoice in God always; and: "What-soever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord"(Col. 3:23).

To Thessalonica Paul WTites: 'Tray withoutceasing. Rejoice evermore. In everything givethanks" (I Thess. 5 : 16, 17, 18) . To the Philippians

:

"Rejoice in the Lord always" (Phil. 4:4). And tothose at Colosse: '"Whatsoever ye do, do it

heartily, as to the Lord" (Col. 3:23). There is norespite given. No compact made with you. Godtakes no pleasure with anything less than all of

your life. Where faith becomes the rule of life, its

dominion aims to be absolute. No finds, no ex-

cuses, no half-measures are tolerated. He whowould live this life as a child of God, as a servantof Jesus Christ, inspired by the Holy Ghost, must

532

be led and carried in everything by faith. He whodivides and makes distinctions robs God of a partthat is God's. If you would love God with all

your heart, with all your soul, with all your mindand with all your strength, every subterfuge is

closed off, and the all-claiming and all-demandingcharacter of faith is founded in Love itself.

Every division works injury to your life, andto your religion. He who makes division here, anddoes too much for religion, neglects his family or

his calling. And he who divides and is not pious,

gives the lion-share to the world, and with anavaricious heart deducts from what he pretends to

set aside for God in strength, time and money.He who would have the blessing of nearness untoGod and of going through life in secret fellow-

ship with God, can not cultivate it spasmodically.With him God must be known in everything heundertakes to do. God must be the sole end andaim, God must be entreated and given thanks.This can not be done in a formal way with closing

of eyes and folding of hands and muttering of

words, but in the inmost chamber of the heartand in that hidden recess of self-consciousnesswhence are the issues of life as well as of prayer.This is opposed by the idea that a clergyman

•can continually turn this fellowship with God into

a reality in life, but not a business man; thatthe man or woman who is zealous for missions,

philanthropy or evangelization, stands in holyservice before God, but not the father and motherin the family. The work of a clergj-man, mis-sionary or nurse is then called consecrated labor,

and the work performed by the gardener, merchantor seamstress is said to be secular. This false rep-

533

resentation of the matter has worked much injuryto piety and to vital godliness.

It goes without saying that he Who ministers

in the sanctuary is of itself more closely engagedwith holy things, and enjoys an uncommon priv-

ilege, of which he shall give an account before

God. Nor can it be denied that at the exchangeand in the shop it takes more effort and victory

over self to continue in everything near unto God.This is a greater struggle in which God knowswhat we are made of, and is mindful that we are

dust. But by the side of this stands the fact that

ministering in the sanctuary brings with it in nosmall measure the danger of becoming accustomedto holy things, and of handling the same more andmore with unholy hands, whereby judgment is

made so much the heavier. In best churches andin most excellent missions also evil times returned

again and again, in which priests and priestesses

profaned the sanctuary, and when not from amongthem, but from among plain patrons and workingpeople and shop-keepers and merchants the newaction arose, which restored the holy to honor. Apious preacher, a godly missionary, a consecratednurse, and likewise a truly godly warden, elder ordeacon, represents a glorious power. But it is amistake to think that of itself the more conse-crated calling brings true godliness with it. Youngpreachers of tender consciences, have frequentlybeen bound to confess that they were put toshamo bv the godliness of manj^ a plain memberof their congregation.

534

Moreover, it must be granted that in our ex-

tremely defective condition certain definite and

special consecration of a part of our life, of our

strength and of our money to religious activities

and interests is necessary. You can not serve Godall the days of your life in such a way but that

the day of rest retains its supreme significance.

You can not continue near unto God in every-

thing you do in such a way, but that the particu-

lar moments of direct prayer, of worship in the

Word, and of thanksgiving and praise continue

to be a need of the heart. Neither can you prac-

tice justice and compassion in everything in such

a way, but that setting apart of special gifts for

the service of God is appreciated by you as a

sacred duty.

In the Jerusalem above this duality also shall

fall away. The church triumphant in heavenshall not stand in, nor by the side of, the life of

glory, but shall be that life itself. But such it is

not as yet here. It can not be otherwise but that

here this duality continues. The church is some-thing else than the family or the shop. Themighty antithesis between things of this worldand things of the Kingdom demands this. Butthis may never allow religion, piety or godliness

so to withdraw itself within the sacred domain as

to become a churchly life with godliness by the

side of a life in the world without godliness. God-liness may find a more exalted utterance within

the sacred domain, and impart strength for daily

636

life, but to be true and genuine, it must be a

golden thread that maintains its glistening bright-

ness throughout all of life.

It all depends on whether you truly believe

that God is almighty, the Creator of heaven andearth. Whether you believe and consider that

ever}'- material you handle is his creature; that

every article of food and drink on your table is

his creature and his gift; that your body and all

your senses are his embroidery; that every force

of nature with which you come in contact, is his

omnipresent working; that every circumstance

you encounter has been appointed you by God;that every relation in which you are placed byblood, by marriage, by appointment or choice,

has come to you under and by his providential

plan; that your every exigency and difficulty has

been put in your way by God; that every task

or duty to which you are called comes to youfrom God and has a definite significance in his

government; that you can not think of anythingso high or so low on earth but it all forms a

link, great or small, in the chain of his dispo-

sitions; that no joy is enjoyed and no suffering

suffered, but God measures it out to you; in

brief, that nothing can be thought of in heavenor on earth, and nothing can exist, but God, whocreated heaven and earth, maintains and governsit, has a holy purpose with it all, in everything is

God who disposes and ordains, and who in all

things uses his people, which includes you, to

carry out his counsel. To make an exception of

536

anything whatever with reference to this, is

unbelief.

When, therefore, the Apostle says: "Whatso-

ever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord," he says

nothing but what immediately flows from your

confession that you believe in God the Father

Almighty, the Creator of heaven and earth. For

then there is nothing in your personal life, or in

your family life, or in your study and work, or

in anything you do, that would separate you from

God, and that should not rather, provided it is

rightly interpreted, lead j^ou to God. You can,

indeed not sin as to the Lord. Sin separates, breaks

fellowship and throws you back upon yourself.

But for the rest, whether you stand behind the

counter or work at your trade; whether you sit

in your office; whether you lose yourself in study

or devote yourself to art; whether you are at

home or in other company—it all can and must

be one working, one activity with strength

imparted of God, in things Divinely created, for

a purpose which God has ordained.

Hence the question is whether your faith, notin the mysteries of salvation, no, but your faith

first of all in God as Creator of heaven and earth

floats with you as a drop of oil on the waters, or

whether it permeates all of your life and is applied

by you to everything. In case of the latter there

is no division anywhere, and the man who plows

and sows, the carpenter at the bench or the stone-

layer, the mother who cares for her children and

her home, in brief, every man and woman, in any

537

position of life whatsoever, never labor apart

from God, but always in his creation and iii his

service.

Then to be near unto God, the fellowship with

the Eternal, the secret walk with him who know-eth the heart, is no sweet-smelling savor by the

side of life, but the breath of life itself, spreading

its sweet perfume upon your whole existence.

Then in everything you are glad, because the

majesty and the grace of God breathes upon youfrom everything and in everything. Then, in

everything, you pray, not with the lips, but in

the heart, because, in whatsoever you do, you feel

your deep dependence upon his Almighty power.

Then in everything you give thanks, because all

trouble is outcome of his grace. And everyadversity is intended to stimulate you, with the

aid of ever more grace, to greater exertion of

strength. Then everything will be done heartily,

i. e. not mechanically, not slavishly, not of neces-

sity, but willingly and gladly, because in this wayyou are permitted to do it in his service. Andthus you attain that high level of existence wheregodliness and fulfillment of duty are one, because

whatsoever you do, in quiet and restful nearness

unto God, you are permitted to do as to the Lord.

99

"HOW EXCELLENT IS THY NAME INALL THE EARTH."

One of the last hallelujah psalms closes with

the mention of the children of Israel, as "the

538

people that is near unto God." It says in full:

"He hath exalted the horn of his people, the

praise of all his saints; even of the children of

Israel, a people near unto him" (Psalm 148:14).

The distinction that is here made is, that not only

the individual soul may find itself in closer fellow-

ship, in more intimate communion, in more con-

stant walk with God, but also that this, in a

much vaguer sense, of course, may be true undergiven circumstances of a large number of persons,

and even of a whole people.

To a certain extent this can be said of a rural

population in distinction from the population of

cities. The story of ''the temple of uncarved wood"remains herewith under sentence of its own un-reality. For in its hypocrisy it never was any-thing else than the poetic, pious talk of those

who would rather take a walk on Sunday than goto church. We mean the fact, which has beenobserved in almost every country, that the rural

population, taken as a whole, has remained moredevoted to religion than the great masses of city

people, at least among what are called protestant

that have become estranged from all home relig-

ion and from public worship. It can even be said

that this serious phenomenon increases in propor-

tion to the increase of city population.

This does not mean to say that in these great

cities there is no remnant of devout people. Thesecity people, indeed, are sometimes very influential,

and in many ways their piety is of a higher type

than rural piety, especially in strength of purpose

539

and elasticity. This is the result of greater friction

and of more intense competition. He who in

such cities still cherished the sacred traditions of

the fathers, did so under protest. He had to suffer

for it, and to struggle in behalf of it. But he whomaintained himself in the conflict, came out of it

better disciplined, fortified and strengthened, andfelt himself better equipped against unbelief andindifferentism. But apart from these relatively

always small exceptions, it can not be denied that

in rural districts reverence for religion is morefirmly rooted, and that in city life this reverence

wanes; especially where there are great indus-

tries, much commerce, and much speculation at

the exchange. Indeed, among factory owners andhands, among merchants and oflSce clerks, amongmembers of the exchange and capitalists there are

also truly pious children of God, but they are

white ravens among the black flock.

That which co-operated to bring this about is

manifold. What with weather and wind, harvests

and failure ^f crops, with cattle and land plagues,

people in rural districts are far more directly de-

pendent upon the works of God than people in

the cities. With respect to industrial interests.

and mechanical inventions man is the more prom-inent agent who exercises power. In rural dis-

tricts temptation also is less brutally on exhibition.

Evenings there are shorter and people rise earlier.

People know each other more personally, whichmakes the discipline of public opinion more effec-

tive. The membership of a church is smaller,

640

which allows the supervision of the church to be

more general. And so there are many causes that

co-operate, but among these the principal cause

always is: Life in the country itself, and the

consequent influence of nature, of the visible crea-

tion of God which surrounds the countryman.

From this it can be inferred that he who seeks to

be near unto God loses a notable capacity, whenhe does not open eye and ear to the impression

of the nearness of God, which the visible creation

can impart.

The need of this opening of eye and ear is

evident from the large number of city people whoin summer go to the country, but who go only

for pleasure and fresh air, and return as estranged

from God as when they started. But as a matterof fact, the city man misses nature. Parks andboulevards offer some compensation, but the great

masses, especially working people, only return

home at dark. The starry heavens truly also

glisten above our cities, but among those whowalk the busy streets in the evening, who lifts

his eyes on high to see who has created all these

things, who bringeth out their hosts by number,and calleth them by name?

In our villages nature is all around, whether it

is desired or not. It forces itself upon the inhab-

itants. In cities, on the other hand, people are

shut off from nature and only they who seek it

above or outside of the town find it. In the coun-

try God's voice addresses us from within and from

541

without. In the city alone from within, while the

human voice makes itself loudly heard in all sorts

of ways to hush the voice of the Lord, even in

his starry heaven and in his thunder. They whoare advanced in years, and whose life's task is

done, not infrequently seek the country again to

make good what they have lost. In most cases,

however, susceptibility to understand nature has

been lost, and so they remain isolated from their

surroundings.

Now, compare this with Scripture. Man has his

origin in a glorious paradise, where all nature

addresses him in a pure language of God. Evenafter the fall so much excellence remains in

broken nature that the invisible things of Godare understood from created things, both hi?

eternal power and divinity (Romans 1:20). "Theheavens declare the glory of God, and the firma-

ment showeth his handiwork. Day unto dayabundantly uttereth speech, and night unto night

sheweth knowledge. There is no people or land,

where this voice of God is not heard" (Psalm 19).

Excellent is his name in all the earth. The voice

of the Lord is upon the waters. The God of glory

thundereth. The voice of the Lord is powerful.

The voice of the Lord is full of majesty. Thevoice of the Lord breaketh the cedars, even the

cedars of Lebanon (Psalms 29). And so it goea onthrough all the Psalms. Read and read again

Psalm 104. And at the end of the Psalter wehave a striking description of nature in Psalms147 and 148. And even before the Book of the

542

Psalms is Job with his wondrous descriptions of

the Behemoth, the horse and the pleiadea. It is

all one mighty call in the greatness and beautyof nature to behold the glory of God.And when in Scripture we come to the preach-

ing of the Son of Man, it is again the self-same

call: 'Consider the lilies of the field, how theygrow!" "Behold the fowls of the air;" it is light

thrown upon the mysteries of the Kingdom bor-

rowed from what is seen in the sower and theshepherds; and at the close of his ministry there

is the touching comparison of Jerusalem with the

hen that gathers her chickens under her wings.

The glow of nature scintillates throughout all of

Revelation. God's ancient people was a rural peo-ple. The holy land, which God had appointed for

his people, was then, though no longer now, afertile field of unequalled beauty. The new earth

under the new heaven shall be a return of para-

dise. The wilderness shall blossom as the rose.

And when our times are familiar with the glori-

fication of the artist-painter, because of the beau-tiful scenes which, with depths of color and life,

he works before our eyes—what dullness of the

spiritual eye it betrays when at the same time it

is blind to the thousand-fold more enchantingglory in the handiwork of our God, who is the

chiefest artist of all.

It affects one strangely, therefore, to find so

little, if any, appreciation of the beautiful in

nature among Christian people. Undoubtedly the

voice of the herald of Peace far excels the many543

voices of nature. "In his temple," says thePsalmist, after having described the power of Godin nature, "in his temple doth everj'one speak of

his glory" (Psalm 29:9). And in the Hallelujah

song of Psalm 147 it is said that Israel is highly

exalted above primitive peoples, because the Lordhath made known his word unto Jacob. And in

closing it declares: "He hath not dealt so with

any nation: Neither have the heathen knowl-edge of his laws." In the congregation of believers,

where the word is rightly proclaimed, there is a

spiritual beauty which far outshines the beautyof nature.

But shall we be onesided on this account andallow the half to be lost? According to our con-fession God is known in two ways. Surely fromhis Word, but also from the creatures, which are

letters in the book of creation, to make us knowthe might and majesty of God. Christian con-

fer nces, devotional meetings, devotional books,

are all very excellent, but must on this accountthe great book of creation remain closed to the

eye of the soul? It all goes for the sake of

impressions, impressions oq the collodion-plate of

the heart. For the sake of impressions which far

excel the impressions of daily life, and those whichwe receive from men.

We may not, and will not, live under the

impression that the Divine can ever be reduced to

the measure of the human. We will not lower andlessen God after our dimensions, but lift up our-

selves to the measure of the majesty of God. Not

544

a God after our image, but we created after the

image of God. And this you will not get frombooks, and not from travel, and not from acquaint-

. ance with men. For all this only confines you to

the limit and to the measure of our small propor-

tions, and is altogether different from a rising or

a setting of God's sun; altogether different fromthe flash of lightning or from the thunder that

rolls in the clouds; altogether different from the

I

glory of the starry skies that arch themselves

I

above you; altogether different from the great

iforests, or the lion that roars for prey.

I

In nature we have the sublime, and in thei sublime we have the Divine utterance of what is

\

superlatively beautiful and glorious. The high andi the lofty: even a majesty which infinitely sur-

: passed the small dimensions of human economyand of human A.orks, so that you may know andunderstand that you are not in touch with thebungling works of man, but with the glorious,

sublime art of the Creator of heaven and of earth.

Truly, the beautiful in nature can not disclose to

you the way of salvation, and its spiritual mys-teries. For this purpose God in compassion hasgiven you his Gospel. But what the outshining

of God's majesty and divinity in nature effects is:

that it binds and expands and elevates all yourideas to an higher sphere than what your sight

,can give you; that it lifts you up from the insig-

nificant-human to the Divinely-great; in brief: to• what is exalted! And that in this way it brings

the High and Lofty One nearer unto you.

100

THOU TRIEST MINE HEART, THAT ITIS WITH THEE."

Many causes can interrupt the secret walk with

God. The most mysterious to the pious mind is,

that God withdraws his face, in order, by the

want of it, to make you thirst more strongly after

it. The most common is, that earthly interests

so engage the attention and keep it absorbed that

the soul is ensnared by them. And the most offen-

sive to the soul is that actual sin came in the way,

which not only broke your fellowship with God,but continued to prevent the return to the near-

ness of the Holy One.

Actual sin alone has mention here. A word, a

deed, of which you felt, when you faced it, that

it would be a sin to you, and which you failed to

evade. A sinful tendency, a sinful mood, especially

a sinful desire, can seriously affect the fellowship

with God, but the working of it is different. Foron this side of the grave this sinful inclination

will stay by us, but provided it is not cherished,

this by itself will not prevent the secret walk

with God. The secret walk with God is always

in Christ, from which it is evident that we do not

come to God as one who is holy, but as one whoin himself is a sinner. But it is different with a

sin that has been committed. Then there was

consent, permission and the doing of it. Then at

once the light of God's benign countenance was

gone. Then on the side of God it become dark,

51f>

and the inclination to flee from God was stronger

than to be near unto God.We perceive this change in our spiritual atti-

tude clearly, at once and in the most painful way,when it was a sin that tempted us; a sin which,

once committed, startled us, and for which wewould give anything if the stain of it could imme-diately be removed from our soul. When, if wemay say it in an ordinary way, it was a bad ain.

For nothing shows our low moral viewpoint aosadly as our general ignorance of our minor daily

sins, neglected duties, unlovelinesses, expressions

of egotism, pride and vanity; small untruths,

little dishonesties, and much more of the samekind.

This is still entirely different from what Davidcalls "secret faults." They are faults which maystain the garment, but so little as to escape ournotice. This refers to unknown sins, and whichonly with later development of soul, will be rec-

ognized by us as such. But we know the sins

which we say are "not so bad." We have be-come accustomed to them and therefore theyhave ceased to trouble us. Our soul no morereacts on them. And of this sort of sins it is cer-

tainly true, that they hinder the secret walk withGod, but do not prevent it. They do not breakwhat once existed. But they affect the hiddenwalk with God to this extent, that it becomessporadic, remains fellowship from a distance, andthat we fail of the fuller enjoyment of the same.

Interruptions by sin in fellowship with God areonly possible when, as a rule, you are near unto

647

God, when you know him in all your ways, andhave been initiated into the secret of salvation,

and then commit a sin which startles and frightens

you, and brings a dark cloud to your sky, and youare thrown back upon yourself, and you feel that

you have no more part in the lovely walk with

God.In Psalm 32 David speaks of such a break, and

frankly confesses that this condition was con-

tinued because he kept silence. "When I kept

silence thy hand was heavy upon me day andnight." But at length he broke this silence, "I

said, I will confess my transgressions unto the

Lord." And when he has done it, the break is at

once removed. Now he seeks and hnds Godagain, and so he sings: "For this shall every one

that IS godly pray unto thee in a time when thou

mayest be found. Thou compassest me with joy-

ful songs of deliverance." Yea, now he meets

with God again, and God does not repel him nor

hold him back. But he hears it sweetly whispered

in his soul : "I will instruct thee ; I will guide thee

with mine eye."

And in this Davidic experience of soul lies the

only true diagnosis, and the only effective medi-

cine. When we were so weak, nay so wicked, as

willingly and knowingly to commit a sin, the first

impression which it made on us was that wewanted to hide from God, that we were afraid of

appearing again before his presence, and that with

the bitter remembrarice of our sin we drew back

^vithin ourselves. Not from enmity, but from

548

fear. Not from lack of will, but from shame. We\\ell knew that we must get back to God, but wepostponed it. We wanted to pray, but we allowed

time to intervene. We kept silent. And in this

oppressive silence, which so sorely weighed uponthe soul, we got farther and farther away fromGod.This is the diagnosis, i. e. the explanation of

the wound from which at such a moment the soul

bleeds. The only true medicine is immediately to

break your silence, seek solitude, kneel down, andwithout sparing yourself confess plainly and can-

didly your sin before God, call upon him for for-

giveness, yea, implore him that he take not his

Holy spirit from you.

This takes pains. At such a time 3^ou must do\-iolence to yourself. You feel the sharpness of

God's anger, and back of it you must grasp his

mercy. But the outcome of this is always sur-

prising. It is just as David said. It breaks at

once the ban which sin put upon the heart. Some-thing in the soul gives way, and liberation follows,

deliverance, reconciliation, and God comes near in

faithfulness as Jesus pictured it in the shepherdwith the lost sheep. It seems as though in such a

moment God draws nearer than ever to convinceyou of his infinite compassion.

Satan whispered within : "Stay away . fromGod," but your Father in heaven called out to

you: "No, come unto me, my child." In this

approach of your sin-confessing heart to God, andof God to your soul, the interruption falls away,

649

and it is good for you, unspeakably good, to benear again unto God.

And what is the secret of this healing work of

the soul? Is it not stated in Jeremiah's words:

"Lord, thou knowest me, thou seest me, thou triest

mine heart that it is with thee" (Jer. 12:3 Dutchversion). That which makes the utterances of

Psalmist and prophet so striking is, that theyinterpret all of life within the scope of battle for

or against God. Battle against God on the part

of Satan. Battle against God on the part of un-holy, worldly powers. Battle against God's holi-

ness on the part of every sin They do not speakthe weak, cowardly language of a self-developing

and degenerating moral life, but they relate every-

thing to God, as the center of all things. It is all

a battle of sin and unrighteousness against God,and a battle cf God against all unrighteousness andsin. It is an age-long battle, from the days of

paradise on, which will not cease until the end of

the ages, when God in Christ shall triumph over

the last enemy. And we are all involved in this

conflict, and have our part in it. When we sin,

it is on the side of Satan against God. When welive by faith, it is on the side of God against

Satan.

This is the interpretation of life as given byprophets and apostles. And this should be the

profound and striking interpretation of life on the

part of all God's children. And what is a sin

which we commit? Even this: that in an evil

moment we strengthen the forces of evil against

B60

God, and that in co-operation with Satan weoppose God. And if this be the case what is it

to make confession of sin, save that so soon as

you realize this, you at once step out from amongthe ranks of Satan and return to the battle lines

of God, imploring mercy, that you may be counted

worthy again to fight under his banner, and again

to join forces with him?

And now the heart appeals to the omniscience of

the God of all compassions. Did you mean to

desert the ranks of God and to join the forces of

Satan? No, no; and once again, No. You did

not mean to do it. The thought of such an evil

did not rise from within yourself. You allowed

yourself to be taken unawares. You slipped with-

out realizing the dreadful wickedness of your deed.

And now as you perceive that this is the sin that

you committed, you appeal to God. In the in-

most recess of your heart there was no desire to

desert God. And your sorrow of soul, your re-

morse, your self-reproach is, that in the face of it,

you have incurred the guilt of an act of enmityagainst God. And, therefore, you plead with himand ask him, the all-knowing, whether as he tries

your heart, he does not see, and does not know,that in its deepest depths, as against Satan, it is

with him.

101

"GET THEE BEHIND ME. SATAN!"

It can not be denied, that in former times,

especially in the middle ages, too much was made

661

of Satan by dragging him, as it were, rightly or

wrongl}', into everything. But does it not seemthat now we rather incline to the other extreme,and forget, if not deny, the very existence of the

Evil One? With this denial, self-conceited free-

dom in matters of belief makes singular shifts

with the Gospel of our Lord. For then it is said

that one frees himself from the Old Testament,but for this very reason adheres the more closely

to the Gospel. These wavering spirits are notconcerned with Moses but with Jesus, and fre-

quently do not hesitate to criticize you, who holdto the whole Scripture, as being too Old-Testa-mentish and consequently only half Christian.

But see how these people, who are so loud in

their praises of the Gospel, themselves deal with

it. It is true that Satan has almost no mentionin the Old Testament, and that he is broadly

dealt with in the Gospel. And not this alone, but

in his words as well as in his works, Jesus con-

tinually shows that he reckons with Satan. Onlythink of the temptation in the wilderness, of the

constant casting out of devils, of the great con-

flict of evil spirits against the Savior, how heunderstood that all his sufferings and death was a

struggle with this Prince, and how, without multi-

plying instances, in the short "Our Father" he

added the petition as a final prayer for all his

people: "Deliver us from the Evil."

All this, however, will not do. The half friends

who have put the Old Testament aside, in order

to adhere solely to Jesus and his Gospel, do not

552

hesitate to dismiss this whole matter of Satan's

influences, part and parcel, from their Gospel.

And with respect to this it is evident again, that

every such effort aims not at forming the mindand thought after the Gospel, but at mouldingthe Gospel after their own world of thought.

With respect to this they who, while more faith-

ful to the Gospel do not deny but forget the real

workings of Satan, are not free from guilt. Or is

it not extremely rare, that in spoken or written

address, in psychology or in revelations of the

inner life, the Evil One is reckoned with as a real

factor? It should be carefully observed, that like

a thief, Satan is most pleased when his presence

and his work are not noticed. In circles wherehis existence is denied or ridiculed, his hands are

altogether free to murder souls according to his

liking. But that he can be so strangely forgotten

by those who are more inclined to believe the

Gospel, offers him the finest chances to poison

souls. We may be sure that in all this denial andin all this forgetting of the actual existence of

Satan, a trick of Satan himself operates. Whenthe mighty spirit of Christ moved the waves of

the sea of life in Palestine, Satan did not succeedwith this for a moment, and Jesus compelled himto show himself. But now he succeeds in keepinghimself in hiding, and unseen and unnoticed, fromthe ambush, to inw^ork his character, and conse-

quently with better effect.

How the working of Satan proceeds is not re-

vealed unto us in its particulars. We only know553

that the world of men is not the only world of

conscious beings. There are myriads of other

spiritual beings who are known as spirits, angels,

cherubim, seraphim, etc. It is also certain that

this world of spirits is not separated from ourworld of men, that it exists by the side of it,

and is in all sorts of ways related with it andinworks upon it. And in the second place it is

additionally revealed, that in this world of spirits

the antithesis between holy and unholy has brokenout, even earlier than here on earth, and that

from this world of spirits it has entered into ourworld of men.

Hence there is a certain alliance between goodspirits and good men, and also a conspiracy be-

tween unholy spirits in the invisible world andunholy spirits in the visible world. Joy amonggood angels of God over one sinner that repenteth,

and smiles of derision among evil spirits when the

effort to bring about the fall of a lost man meetswith success. It is all one conflict, one warfare,

one struggle with Christ as the Head of holyspirits here on earth and outside of this worldagainst Satan, who is the head of all unholyspirits among men and among devils.

All this is clearly, broadly and exhaustively set

forth in the Gospels, Epistles and in Revelation.

We know this, we believe this, and are obliged to

direct our doings and non-doings in accordancewith this. But how these workings of unholyspirits upon the world of men proceeds, is wraptin shadows, so that only some vague features give

554

direction to our thoughts. This much, however,

is certain, that a threefold working severally de-

lineates itself with sufficient clearness. There are

workings from the unholy spirit world, which,

without definite attack, of themselves find a

vehicle observable by us, in public opinion, cus-

toms and habits of life, and sinful human nature.

This is the common, the everyday recurring, the

ever continuing process which, as it were, is in

the very air, and of which we all undergo a cer-

tain influence. There is a second working whichis better defined when one of the many evil spirits

makes itself master of the spirit of a given com-pany of people or of the spirit of a given indi-

vidual. Sometimes several wicked spirits do this

at once. Bring to mind the parable of Jesus

(Matt. 12:45). And, then, there is a third, still

more definite, yea, even the most definite working,

when Satan does not employ the agency of oneof his adherents, but when he prepares himself

for battle, in order to make a leading assault in

the world of spirits.

In accordance with the spirit of the times, andof persons, the first, second or third working ap-

pears more conspicuously in the foreground. Thisis seen in the days of Jesus. The main dispute

had then to be settled, and all three of these

workings were strongly evident. Satan himself, in

array against Jesus and his apostles, evil spirits

arrayed against chosen victims, and the ordinary

workings among the rank and file of the people.

Escape there was none. Hiding would not do.

656

The conflict was in the open. Altogether differ-

ent from now.

Even in those days, however, Satan tried to hidehimself. We refer to this for our instruction.

Peter, with his sensitive nature and excitable

mind, was used as instrument. "His 5esus to

die on the Cross! Never!" Love for Jesus wasthe motive of antagonizing this dreadful thoughtin Jesus. And so we read: "Then Peter tookhim, and began to rebuke him, saying, 'Have pity

on thyself! This shall not be unto thee!' " (Matt.16:22). The working of Satan was concealed in

this. Peter did not realize it. But Jesus sawthrough it at once, and in turn rebuked the dis-

ciple, who was adrift on his feelings instead of

resting on the prophesied plan regarding the manof sorrows. "Get thee behind me, Satan, for thou

savourest not the things that be of God, but

those that be of man." Thus Satan did not gain

a hair's breadth. Jesus unmasked him at once.

Even with his attack from the ambush he could

make no advance against Jesus.

But this event is of infinite value to us. It

shows that a direct attack of Satan can lurk in

loveliest forms of devotion, when apparently noevil intent is at play, even when we have the

impression of walking very tender ways. This

does not say, that Satan ever attacked you per-

sonally. It is very possible that he confined him-self in this to the use of one of his subordinate

spirits. It is even possible that as yet he has

never influenced you otherwise than by his gen-

556

eral workings in the spiritual atmosphere. Butthe incident with Peter shows that you might bemistaken. That there might have been an attack

of Satan when you did not in the least suspect

it. And in any case, that the daily prayer:

'"Deliver us from the Evil!" is no superfluous

wealth for anyone of us.

Thinking of a temptation that was endured,

the question sometimes rises long afterward,

entirely objectively: Was not this a direct attack

of Satan on my heart, and was it not God whodelivered and saved and preserved me? It is not

always in the temptation to some particular great

sin. See it in the case of St. Peter. He deemedrather that he was doing good. But this is cer-

tain, that the greatest obstacle in the way of the

world of evil spirits is your seeking and striving

to be near unto God, to live in his secret fellow-

ship, to choose your path in life and to follow it

unto the end, in conscious communion with God.

And for you, on the other hand, there is nosafer stronghold in which to hide and safeguard

yourself against these unholy influences than in

being much in close nearness unto God. For this

reason Satan is ever on the alert to interrupt this

fellowship with God in your heart. That youseriously seek this hidden walk with God, is

reason enough for Satan to venture an attack onyou in a particular way, by no means always to

allure you into a great sin, but very frequently, as

in the case of Peter, by imparting unto you divert-

ing workings of the affections.

657

Be, therefore, on your guard. As soon as youbecome aware of spiritual coolness, as soon as youperceive that this, that or the other thing renders

it difficult or prevents you from being, and con-

tinuing, near unto God, then consider what in-

fluences you are becoming subject to, what un-noticed inworkings take place in your soul. Shakeyourself free from them all. And do not rest

until you have found your hiding place close bythe heart of God. Hesitation, procrastination will

not do. Jesus broke the spell immediately, andat once repulsed Peter with the words: "Get theebehind me, Satan!" Brief, forceful and aggressive!

Thus only the snare breaks, and you can escape.

102

"OH, THAT THOU WOULDEST RENDTHE HEAVENS."

Ascension day is a Divine memorial day. It is

the glorious memorial day of our Savior. Thework of redemption which was to be accomplishedon earth was now finished. Not only his bearing

of the form of a servant; not only the way of the

man of sorrows; not only entering in upon eternal

death, but also the sojourn of forty more days onearth, in order to consecrate his apostles to the

holy, gigantic task, which awaited them fromnow on.

These forty days again were a sacrifice of love

brought by Jesus. The glory of heaven allured

him. The place at the right hand of God called

658

and wooed him. The crown awaited him. Butyet he tarried. He still remained in the sphere

of this world. Not because it attracted him. Onthe contrary, between the risen Savior and the

world, which was still submerged in misery, every

tie of connection was severed. With respect to this

world he had ceased to dwell in its midst. He haddied unto this world, and his resurrection had not

restored him unto it, but only to the circle of his

saints. And so there was something anti-natural

for him in this forty days tarrying on earth. Heno longer belonged to it. He had become estranged

from it and it from him. Even though he still

tarried in it, the world would see him no more.

He would still be in it, but out of all connection

with it, no longer belonging to it, but to an

higher sphere, into which he had actually entered

by his resurrection.

But Jesus loved his disciples. The touching

parting wuth them in Gethsemane, the parting

with Peter in the court room, the parting with

John on Golgotha, could not be final. Not the

world, but they must see him after his resurrec-

tion. They must be initiated into their new rela-

tion to their Lord. Regenerated in his resurrec-

tion itself they must receive the apostolic anoint-

ing. They must be prepared for the transition

into the new relation, when they would be alone

on earth and their Master in heaven. And for

this purpose Jesus had brought this last sacrifice,

that he did not ascend to heaven immediately

after his resurrection, but only weeks afterward,

669

and that for those many days he forewent the

glory which awaited him on God's throne.

But this could not last. The end must follow.

It was an holy pause in his glorification, entered

upon from love, but which of necessity had to beas short as possible. It could not, and was not,

permitted to be a continuous intercourse with his

own. That would not have answered his purpose.

It would not have accustomed them to the parting

that was to follow. And therefore there was noth-

ing but an occasional appearance in order to with-

draw himself again. At first more frequently, thenmore rarely, in order presently at Damascus andon Patmos to reveal himself but for a fleeting

moment. In between these lies the final parting.

The last meeting on the Mount of Olives, with

Gethsemane at its foot, Jerusalem stretching itself

behind it, and back of Jerusalem Golgotha andthe cave from whence he rose. Jesus had given

them his last command. The moment of parting

was at hand. And then from the top of the Mountof Olives he lifted himself from their midst, andascended so that they saw it, higher and ever

higher, until a cloud received him out of their

sight, and angels from the spheres of light camedown, who gave them the last word of comfort:"He is gone away from you, once to return. Oncethe whole world shall be his."

Where those heavens are, whither Jesus went,remains a mystery to us. We look for them above,and all Scripture tells us, and our own heartreturns an echo to it, that the heaven of glorymust arch itself above us. It is an increated need

560

of our soul to look for God's throne not in our

proximity, nor yet underneath, but above us. Theheavens are God's throne and the earth is his

footstool. We look up to the heavens, from whencelight comes to us, where God's stars twinkle in

the firmament, from whence rain descends to us

and waters the earth and spreads blessing all

around us. But dimensions here do not count.

The heavens of our God are not of our materiality,

they do not count with our distances, they are

not comprised in the measure of the finite. Oncethey will open themselves to us from a direction

where we did not expect it. They will not be

where we surmised it. But in unknowTi glory

they will open their gates to us. And into this

glory, when he ascended, Jesus has entered.

"Oh that thou wouldest rend the heavens!" ex-

claimed Isaiah (64:1) in great distress of soul. For,

taken in its deepest sense, our niisery consisted in

the fact, that by its sinful degeneracy our world

was shut off from the heaven of our God. Theholy above and the unholy round about us and

in our own heart. And then there was every time

a looking up to heaven above which seemed like

brass, and whose closed gates and windows scarcely

allowed our prayers to pass through. We were

disposed to that heaven. We were designed for

it. Only a life in communion with that heaven

could impart the Divinely intended lustre to our

existence here on earth. We were not able to

climb up to those heavens, in order to unlock

their gates. All we could do was to look up to

561

that heaven, stare at it, and call to it and sup-plicate, that our God, or he who alone could doit, would rend those heavens, and afford us access

again to them.

And this prayer has been answered in Chriat.

First in that he descended from heaven, and thenin that he ascended thither again. By the latter

far more strongly than by the former. For, surely,

when Jesus was on earth, there was always anopened heaven above him, and angels of Godascended and descended above the Son of Man.But only by Jesus' ascension has communion be-

tween heaven and earth been established on a

broad scale, durably and permanently. Heascended, not as he descended, but he carried up

our human nature in himself. He came to us

from heaven as the Son of God, but as the Son

of Man he returned into heaven. His ascension is

no break of fellowship with his own, but rather

an anchoring forevermore of the tie which binds

him to his saints on earth. This fellowship is even

wonderfully mutual. He our Head, und in himour life hidden with God, but on the other hand,

he, our Savior, taking up his abode in the hearts

of his own and staying near them with his

majesty, his grace and with his spirit. And nowthere is not a moment more of interruption, far

less of a breaking of the tie which binds our

earth to heaven, but in the sacred mj'ster^^ wehave an ever continuing, living, holy outpouringof light and brightness, of power and might fromon high, and by the side of this, in an equally

sacred mystery, a restless ascent of our faith, our

love and our hope up to the throne of glory.

By his ascent up to heaven Jesus has not be-

come farther removed from us, but he has comenearer by. What now vibrates and lives andoperates is fellowship between the King of glory

and his saints on earth, no longer confined to the

upper room, no more limited to a mountain in

Galilee, but beaming forth throughout the whole

world, wherever there are souls which he redeemedand saved and who, in supplication, go out to him.

It is now an invisible, unobservable, but a force-

ful and systematic operative Divine regiment

which Christ as our Head makes valid in all the

earth. In the wilderness Satan showed Jesus the

kingdom of this world and mirrored to him a

diabolic authority over them all. Jesus refused

this, and for what he then refused he now received

as crown upon his work of Redemption the spirit-

ual and Divine government over all peoples andnations. Thus he perfects over all this world,

wonderfully and majestically, the gradual prepara-

tion of spiritual conditions which will once bring

about the consummation, in order that then he

may establish his eternal kingdom, in all its com-pleteness, in this selfsame world, from which he

ascended.

Thus have the heavens been rent, thus have the

windows and gates of heaven been opened, never

to be closed again, nor even to be veiled. He whowith his prayers now stands before a heaven of

brass, has no one to blame but his own unbelief

563

and lack of spirituality. But for him, for her.

who believes, the heavens are opened, and from

thence pours forth into the darkness of this world

and into the darkness of our own heart, a soft,

blessed glow of light, love and Ufe. And the soul

that is cherished thereby, has already now "walks

above" among the saints of God, and with the

smile of joy on his face, he sees the approach of

the hour when, having finished his earthly course,

he, too, shall enter upon the fulness of that glory.

The early Christians realized this, and therefore,

clothed in white garments, they carried out their

dead who had fallen asleep in Jesus amid songs

of joy. We, at a greater distance from the Mount

of Olives, follow other customs, only, let it never

be with less fixedness of hope in the heart in be-

half of our beloved ones who have fallen asleep.

103

"WITH ALL SAINTS."

In your most pious frame of mind, and urgent

longing of soul to be near unto God you may not

claim the Lord your God for yourself alone. This

is a sinful abuse which is readily committed by

passionate devotion. In the "Our Father" a

plural is used, where we, when left to our own

impulse, would readily use a singular. It does not

say: "My Father," but "Our Father," who art in

heaven, and the plural "us" is used in the Lord's

prayer to the end. This does not mean that we

may not use the singular in our devotions. In

664

the "Eli, Eli, Lama Sabachthani" Jesus quotedPsalm 22 and of itself there could be no plural usedwhenever the Son of God practiced fellowship

with the Father. Jesus as such stood entirely

alone, in holy isolation. And though it may notbe in that exalted and peculiar sense, in which it

was the case with Jesus, yet with us also condi-

tions arise and experiences of soul, which isolate

us, and of which at least we do not know that

we have them in common with others. Then it is

a personal condition, from which we call uponGod, and it is natural that we use the singular

and say: *'My God" and "my Father."

This, however, should not be the rule, it shouldnot be the common tenor of our prayer. Of itself

this is not so when we pray together. But it

must not be so in our quiet, solitary and personal

prayer. In case of common need, even when wepray alone, we feel instinctively that this is notpermissible. In times of shipwreck this has spon-taneously shown itself. If among the more thanone thousand miners who perished at Courrieres,

there were those in that dreadful subteranean hell

who knew how to pray, it probably was notthought otherw^ise. And when recently Vesuviusvomited fire and sulphur, they who were devoutdid not remain at home to pray each by himself,

but all gathered together for prayer in the churches.

Such is the case with all men before God, in

the common need of sin and misery. This com-mon need may assume a special form in eachindividual case. Sin may bear a special character

565

and the misery of life may make itself known in

a particular way to each of us. This, however,

does not take away the fact that all sin and misery

flows from one common source, that it makes us

sharers of a common lot, and that it should moveus unitedly to call upon God for redemption anddeliverance.

If such is the case with our supplication fromthe midst of danger, it is the same with respect

to our thanksgiving for grace received and with

our prayer for safe-keeping by this grace. Everyone's salvation and deliverance is from Bethlehemand Golgotha and the opened grave. One and

the selfsame Satan seeks to work harm into the

grace of all, and the safe-keeping of all by the

grace of God proceeds from the inworking in our

hearts of the same Holy Spirit and from the sameglorious government of Christ as our King. If

thus in sin and misery we share a common lot

with all mankind, in the sphere of grace we share

a common lot with all those whom the Father

has given to Christ. Our spiritual attitude in

holy things therefore neither can nor should be

any other save that we know and feel that weapproach God "with all saints" and that with all

the saints together we stand before our God.

Consider that the Apostle says: "With all

saints" (Eph. 3:18). Some godly people well

know fellowship with the godly in their own town,

but they forget that the godly and the saints are

not the same, and this they leave out of account.

This does not say that it is not good and excel-

566

lent to be daily in spiritual touch with such in

one's town, in order to strengthen the faith and in

behalf of mutual edification. Only, common fel-

lowship with the godly is altogether different fromthe sense of sharing a common lot "with all

saints." With "the saints" the Scripture does not

speak of subjective, personal piety, but of objec-

tive sanctification through and in Christ. 'Thesaints" are the redeemed, they who have beendrawn unto eternal life. Not your choice, but the

choice of God here counts. Not a fellowship with

those whom you think are godly, but sharers in

a common lot with those who have been effec-

tively called of God.

Thus the circle of the saints is not narrow, not

provisional, not local, but it is a* multitude whichno one can number, in all parts of the world,

here and up yonder, from the daj^s of Paradise

until now, and from now on to all eternity. Aswe sing in the Te Deum: "The holy church

throughout all the world doth acknowledge thee."

Hence, "with all saints" means fellowship with

all those who have been and will be redeemed bythe blood of Christ in your immediate surround-

ings, in your^, whole land, in your church, in other

churches, in other lands, both in the present, in

the past and in the future. It is the whole "bodyof Christ" with all its members, not one excepted.

With the patriarchs and prophets, the apostles

and martyrs from of old, with your redeemed rela-

tives and family members and acquaintances, whohave gone before into eternity, with those who

• 567

still continue with you, with those who grow up

frcm among the children of the church, and those

who are still hidden in the seed of the church, or

who are brought into the church from without.

No one whom God has included, may we exclude.

And that this refers not merely to your salvation,

but also to your fellowship with the Triune God,

and to your being near unto God, clearly appears

from what the apostle writes so enthusiastically,

that "with all saints" ye may be able to com-prehend what is the breadth, and length, anddepth and height in the mystery of the grace of

God.

This exposition of the sense of your sacred fel-

lowship is deeply significant with respect to prac-

tical ends. When you accustom yourself to re-

duce the multitude, which no one can number, to

the few Christian people whom you personally

know as members of your own church, your sacred

horizon becomes very small and naiTOw. Thenthe people of God slink away to a few hundreds,

and all the rest of the world appears to you like

lost masses. If, on the other hand, you think of

the wide circle of all God's saints, those at handand those afar off, of the present and of the past,

of those on earth and of those in heaven, and of

those who are yet to be bom, then all the saints

of the old Covenant at once come nearer, then

there is life in fellowship with apostles andmartyrs, then there is an innumerable multitude

of brothers and sisters above, and from the rising

generation and from those that will come after

668

them, we look for a continuous increase of thebody of Christ.

Then discouragement and depression give place

to a feeling of triumph and of endless glory.

Your case then stands no more alone and by it-

self, but thousands have shared it with you, andstill other thousands have been far worse con-ditioned than you, who nevertheless have enteredupon eternal life. You experience also the glor-

ious effect of the magnitude of the work of grace.

You do not belong to an insignificant, forgotten

society, but to a multitude without end, a vastcompany which no one can number, which nowalready stands before God, or is on the way to

the Fatherhouse, or presently is to be born fromthe almightiness of God. Then God and the workof his grace assume proportions of infinite great-

ness to the eye of the soul Everything little

and circumscribed falls away, and the pilgrimjourney is continued, not with sighings and withcomplaints, but jubilantly in the salvation of

God and even here with the standing of the feet

in the gate of the heavenly Jerusalem.And this is the frame of mind that prepares

you for the secret walk with God, and causes youto be near unto God. As long as it is only a per-sonal dealing with God, as though you togetherwith a few other Christian souls sought a hidingplace with God, the majesty of the work of graceis lost to you, and with it the majesty of hisDivine Being. The straits of your own soul'scondition and of the outward needs limit also thelength and breadth, the height and depth of the

569

majestic doings of God. Thus your own insig-

nificance is readily transferred to the Eternal.But when you feel that you are a living memberof the whole living body of Christ, that you areone of the multitude that can not be numbered,that you are related to all the saints above, to

all God's saints in the whole earth, and to all

the saints among the children, and among yourchildren's children, then the pinnings of the sacred

tent are put out widely, your outlook is enlarged,

your love is extended to thousands upon thou-sands, your faith is deepened and your hopebegins to glisten with all the radiancy of glorious

victory.

The heart of our God is so wide of conception,

that nothing estranges you farther from this

Fatherheart than your owtq narrow-heartedness.

In the Te Deum it is sung:

"The glorious company of the apostles praise

thee.

The noble army of martyrs praise thee."

Sometimes the desire comes upon one that hemight have lived in the da3^s of Isaiah, and that

he might have companied with St. John, andmight have witnessed the heroism of martyrs in

the face of death. And then one thinks that all

this is lost in an unapproachable past. Then, live

in the sense of communion "with all saints," andthey all will come nearer to you. They all are

your brothers, with whom you are included in the

one body of Christ. And the nearer you cometo this company of God's saints above, the nearer

570

you will feel yourself in the presence of God, whohath included you "with all saints" in the self-

same bundle of life.

104

"THE GRACE OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST,AND THE LOVE OF GOD, AND THEFELLOWSHIP OF THE HOLY GHOST

BE WITH YOU ALL."

The apostle from whose hand the richest

epistolary legacy has come to us, was in the habit

of opening and closing his epistles with a bless-

ing. The one he used in opening was almost

always: "Grace be with you and peace from Godour Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ." Andthe prayer with which he closed mostly read:

"The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with youall." It was truly exceptional, when at the close

of his second epistle to the Corinthians he so far

departed from his usual way, that he expandedhis prayer, and said: "The grace of our LordJesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellow-

ship of the Holy Ghost be with you all." Thisclosing prayer is particularly noteworthy, becausethe church of Christ almost everywhere has usedit as the apostolic benediction at the close of pub-lic worship. Millions upon millions of times these

sacred words, so rich of content and so tender of

purport, have been repeated, after the departureof Paul, and it is for a large part now that con-gregations of believers return home from the place

of worship under the impression of these words.

571

In this habit of St. Paul of opening and closing

his epistles with a benediction one can observethe aftermath of the manner of the East, and onthis ground take it merely as a phrase, and merelyas a formula of good breeding, which as such has

no spiritual significance, at least to us. But is not

this unspeakably superficial? Is it true that fromof old, and even to this day, it is customary with

people in the East, in meeting and in taking leave

of one another, to use fairly lengthy formulas of

salutation, and this salutation and farewell con-

sists mostly of prayers for blessings from on high.

But how can it follow from this, that such prayers

are nothing but empty phrases? Is not through-

out the whole Scripture the selfsame use in appli-

cation? Did not our Lord himself appear to his

disciples with the salutation of blessing: ''Peace

be unto you!" And again has not this constant

use in the apostolic writings given rise to the

adoption of this ancient custom as a true integral

part in mutual Christian fellowship? Adopted not

merely in the church of the East, but transferred

to the church of the West, and there also conse-

crated by the usage of nearly twenty centuries?

And if, moreover, as for instance in Jacob's bless-

ings of his sons, even prophetic revelation hasemployed this benediction, by which to throw abeam of light upon the future, is it not super-ficial and thoughtless, to see in such a prayer for

Divine favor, nothing but words and sounds, andto deny it all real significance?

By the side of blessing stands the curse, andthis also in Scripture is deeply significant. Not in

572

every case. Not the curse of hated and anger.

Not base meanness, which uses the curse as apoisoned weapon to wound. But the curse of himwho is authorized to pronounce it, the curse of a

father, or of a mother, or of one who is clothed

with spiritual authority. Such a curse was vaHdas spoken under supreme responsibility, underinspiration from above. And such a curse cametrue. And where by the side of the curse there

stands an equally sharply outlined address of

blessing, which also derives its words and signifi-

cance from the person, from the position and the

occasion whereby and under which it took place,

it is evident, that in this most noteworthy phe-

nomenon of blessing and of curse, there hides a

spiritual utterance for which in our Western lands

and in our unspiritual times appreciation and re-

ceptivity have all too far been lost. Of the curse

there is almost nothing left among us, save the

blasphemous language of profane persons whoabuse the holy name of the Lord as expletive andas an expression of anger. And of the prayer of

blessing little else remains than good wishes at

New Year, at a birthday, or at the solemnizing

of marriage.

But in this mighty difference between a wish

and the ancient address of blessing the weakened

and abated character-trait of our utterance of life

delineates itself. Even upon the deathbed little

more is heard of such blessing of one's children.

At present the only particular of a death that is

mentioned is, that the patient passed away quietly

573

and calmly, i. e. without any perceptible death

struggle. In most cases nothing more is heard.

In the face of all this the church usage has

stood firm, and the congregation of God gathers

in the sanctuary with the holy salutation and re-

turns homeward with the address of blessing fromthe Lord. For this closing benediction the con-

gregation even stands, or kneels, and reverently

bows the head, and in quiet seriousness listens to

the words of blessing, presently closed with the

Amen. This is most encouraging, and the minister

of the Word will do well to heighten this last act

of dismissal by restful, calm and solemn tone.

The preceding utterance of the words: "Andnow, receive the blessing of the Lord," is anintroduction which tunes the heart and mind andconsecrates and exalts. For what else utters itself

in this salutation and final benediction than the

glorious perception that the church of the living

God stands in living contact with an higher order

of things from what this world offers, and with

him who has founded his throne in it. He whostands in the faith knows that he lives in a two-fold world. In the common world together withunbelievers, and in the higher world with thesaints around God's throne, with the good angels,

with his Savior and King, and in Christ with his

Father and his God.These two worlds are dove-tailed into one

another. From the higher order, grace, peace andlife, power and might have come down into this

visible world ; they have attached themselves, andnow cleave in Christian lands to all sorts of

674

Christian ordinances and usages. But the real

meeting of these two spheres takes place only in

believers, who still live in this visible world, and

yet carry the higher world in their heart; the

latter expressing itself in their communion with

the Holy Ghost. And as often as this preponder-

ance of the holy in believers comes to a clear

expression through the word, there is the holy

salutation, and presently at parting, the address of

blessing.

But this gives rise in life to a twofold sphere.

The sphere of the unbelieving world, and the

sphere that is breathed upon from the higher

order of things. You are at once aware of this

by the difference in your feelings as you moveamong children of God, or among children of the

world. In both circles, in both spheres a dif-

ferent tone prevails, different language, different

love. With the children of the world the flower

of one's inner nature inclines to close itself up;

with the children of God this calix opens itself.

This is no reason that one should withdraw him-

self from the visible world. On the contrary, Godhas given us here our calling and our work. Weshould even be on our guard, not to lift ourselves

up in spiritual pride before the children of the

world. What better are you than they, and what

is your higher life other than pure grace? Youshould never be unmindful even to give yourself

to this world, like your Savior to serve it, to

bless it with your love, and to work for its good.

But our spiritual saving of life is always to be

575

fully aware of the antithesis between the world

and the higher order of things, and always to

foster fellowship with that higher order of things,

to strengthen it, to feed it, and to remove every-

thing that might hinder or weaken it out of the

way. This power and ability does not come to us

from ourselves, and not from one another, butsolely and alone from God. That which main-tains our vital connection with that higher world

is exclusively the grace of Christ, the love of Godand the fellowship of the Holy Ghost. And for

this reason, as often as the congregation assembles,

the minister of the Word salutes it with this

assunince. and at the clo.se dismisses it with the

same in the name of the Lord.

To be near unto God is the vital strength of

all believers. That alone and nothing else. Hewh J wanders away from God, and becomesestranged from him, weakens himself, disturbs his

inner life, and is lost again in the world. On the

other hand he who continues to be near unto Godand lives in secret fellowship with God, drinks in

the powers of the kingdom each morning anew,lives in spiritual realities, and is breathed uponfrom on high. And this salutation of blessing

an I this dismissal with blessin^- is the constantly

repeated a^urance from the Triune GoJ that his

grace, his love and his fellowship continue to in-

cline toward you: that God will be near untoyou, in order that you may be near unto him,and that it is your sin alone that deprives you of

this blessed communion.

576

105

I, THE LORD THY GOD, AM A JEALOUSGOD."

Say to my people," said the Lord to Ezekiel:

I know the things that come into your mind,pvcry one of them" (Ezekiel 11:5). Hence also heknows what should, but does not, come into it.

\- itiier the all-seeing eye nor the all-hearing ear

he Holy One of Israel are ever impeded. The. it of that eye penetrates into everything, and

no vibration escapes the hearing of that ear. In

one of the marble tombs at Syracuse the tyrant

Dionysius was able to build a wondrously far-

carr>'ing echo, that he might overhear the con-

versations of his captured opponents. Even nowthis echo clearly returns the crackling of a sheet

of paper at a distance of several hundred feet,

and as the stor>' runs, nothing kept tliese prisoners

in check like this so-called "ear of Dionysius."

They could not put it out of mind. They thought

of it with every word. It ruled their spirit and

their life..

This is what these wretched prisoners did for

the sake of the ear of a man. And what do we

do about the holy ear of the all-hearing God?

What do we do for him who does not only see

and see through everything we do, but to whomalso every word is known before it passes over

our lips. Yea, who moreover scans the thoughts,

which we will never put into words, and who is

aware of every impulse, every motion every

vibration, which will never crystallize itself within

us into a thought, but which nevertheless comes

into our mind. He who does not believe, experi-

677

ences no impression, no influence, no governingpower of that all-knowing and all-hearing char-acter of the perceptions of God. He acts, speaks,thinks and allows his inner life to operate asthough there were no God who watches him, whooverhears him, and whose eye inwardly searcheshim.He who believe.? can not act thus. With hiiu

the fear of the Lord is identified with every awak-ening in the life of his soul; and when he thinksof God. he refrains from the evil deed for the sakeof God's holy will; he shrinks from the unbe-coming word, suppresses the unholy thought, andrepres.ses everything sinful or demoniac that wouldenter into his spirit. But alas, his soul is far frombeing alwaj'S as fully awake as this. During longperiods of his life, his faith, as it were, slumbers.Then he does not think of God. He does notconcern him.self about God. And he is almostindifferent to what God observ^es in his inmostlife, of his doings and of his omissions, and all this

leads to sin, until the conscience begins again to

operate, and God awakens him. Is, then, our life

of faith from fear only? No, it is through that

fear from love. From Horeb it was announced to

the people of God: "I, the Lord thy God, am a

zealous, i. e. a jealous God, visiting the iniquity

of the fathers upon the children" (Exodus 20:5).

It is our ble.s.sed privilege, that we may be near

unto God. that we may enjoy his presence andhis fellowship, and that we may taste his secret

walk. But to our spiritual perception responds a

perception from the side of God. To him wholoves us more tenderly than a father, it is a

Dvine delight, when his child is mindful of him,

thinks of him, goes out to him, and seeks his holy

fellowship. On the other hand Gods love is

wounded when his child can forget him, and not

think of him, and be engaged in mmd with

everything save him; when, as far as it depends

on us, he is the forsaken one. For, m order

deeply and strongly to impress upon the heart

the outgoing of the Fatherheart of God after

love's fellowship with his child, God m his word

does not shrink from representing this love to us

in the image of conjugal affection. ^^ , • i

In the description of connubial love m Ezekiel

16 it is constantly declared that God hath be-

trothed himself unto Israel. In the image of^ the

church as bride, the passionate love which umolds

in the relation of husband and wife, is repeatedly

applied to God and his people As a bride lives

solely and alone for her bridegroom so must

God's people live solely and alone for God. And

as desertion on the part of the bride or wife

deeply offends the heart of the bridegroom or

husband, wounds and bruises it, so that envy

arises irresistibly, even jealousy burning like hre

so the Lord our God declares that he is moved

by holy envv when his people can forget him

when his redeemed ones can wander away and

desert him in his love. Yea, then, even the anger

of quick jealousv can not be restrained. -Who

visiteth the iniqmty of the fathers upon the chil-

dren unto the third and fourth generation

Thus to be near unto God has its terrible other

side He who is not near unto God, is near unto

something else, inclines his heart to something

else gives his love to something else. And this

provokes Divine jealousy. Whether in that case

579

you pawn away your love to your own self, or toa man as your idol, to the world, or to demoniacspirits, the Scripture always and unconditionallycondemns this as a drawing away of self fromGod, as a violation of faithfulness to God, as awandering away from the Holy One, and as adesertion from him who alone is worthy of all love.There is here no neutral ground. It is alwaysengaging the heart with something, surrenderingthe heart to something, or a coming into the mindof something which does not reach out after God,but after God's creaturely competitor, and whichwithin the sacred domain of Divine love is on this

account an enemy and an opponent.And this arouses holy jealousy. Not, indeed, as

though there were passion in God, but in placeof it there is sensitiveness in God, which withrespect to power of operation, far exceeds all

human passion. With conjugal love only what is

known and observed ofifends, but there is so muchthat is not known and that consequently does notoffend. With wedded love there is also mislead-ing and deception. But even this does not offendso long as it is not known. No bridegroom onearth can scan his bride to the roots of her innerlife. This leaves a wide margin which is nottaken into account.But all this is unthinkable in the case of the

Lord your God. In all you do and leave undone,in all your thoughts and speech, in all your innerponderings and perceptions, nothing escapes him.He enters, restlessly, more deeply into your inner-most being than the brightest beam of light into

the bedding of the stream. And here no mislead-ing avails, no presentation of self other than you

580

are, and no hypocrisy. His all-penetrating glance

puts every cover aside. And these two taken to-

gether account for the fact, that sensitiveness in

Divine love is far more strongly moved to jeal-

ousy, than strongest human passion can ever

arouse brooding envy.When we are not remembered by our friends it

troubles us. But it troubles the bridegroom far

more grievously when he perceives that his bride

is filled with other thoughts than of him. Tender-

est love demands that we are continually engaged

with one another, that during temporary separa-

tion we live together in thought, and that while

the separation lasts, we cherish no other desire

than to meet one another again, to be near one

another again, and in each other's company to feel

rich and happy and blessed. Apply this to your

love for God, to your confession that it is good

for you to be near unto God. For this love, too,

IS unique. It is no love by the side of another

love, but one which far excels, and is bound to

govern every other attachment, every other affec-

tion, every other union of soul. It is not loving

wife, child, church, country and God, but it is

loving God alone, and from this love have the

cherishing affections flow forth, with which youalso love your wife and child, your church andnative land.

And is it then too much for God to ask, that

you will always be engaged with him, that youwill always think of him, will always let the heart

go out to him. and that you will repress every-

thing that enters into your mind to lead you awayfrom him and to induce you to forsake him? Is it

not God's jealousy of your love, your honor, your

681

highness and your glory? And is it no violation

of yourself and of your God when you discardthis holy urgency of love, and play with it, andfor the sake of religious recreation spasmodicallyreturn to it, only to withdraw yourself presentlyfrom it again, that in your innermost soul youmay engage yourself with all sorts of things exceptGod?The wound which this inflicts upon his holy

love would not be so grievous if God could for-

get you for a time, even as you forsake him.But God can not do this. Before there is yet aword in your lips, behold, he knows it altogether.

As God himself declares: "I know the things that

come into your mind, every one of them." Thus,also, let us repeat it: does he know every one of

the things that ought, but do not come into it.

He knows and mourns every moment that you donot think of him, that you are not engaged withhim, that you do not seek him, do not desire his

nearness, and shamefully live apart from his

secret walk. And when in spite of all this youstill sing with the multitude: "But it is good for

me to be near unto God!" is there then notsomething of a provocation on your part whichoffends and which is bound to wound God?And if this is the reverse of what it is to desire

to be near unto God, confess, does there notspring from this an entirely unthought of newimpulse to make your seeking after God's near-ness an ever deeper reality in your life? As longas you view nearness unto God from your side

alone, you can comfort yourself for any temporalloss of it by considering the compensating, un-speakable riches of the single moments of its

582

enjoyment. But when you consider nearness untoGod, thinking of God, being engaged with God,from the side of God who loves you, an entirely

different note mingles itself in this love-song.Then you can not and will not grieve the Holyspirit. Then it is not your soul alone which seeksGod, but far more yet, it is God who awaits thelove of your soul. It is your God who with holy'jealousy is angry every moment that you with-

draw yourself from his seeking love.

106

'THE SIGNS OF THE TIMES."

Times differ. They are not age upon age, onemonotonous sameness. They are rather contin-

uous succession and restless change. And even of

a century, which has just closed, and which as

"the nineteenth century" almost imagined itself

to have been the discoverer of the abiding light,

it can be said in the words of the Psalmist(Ps. 102:26) : "It shall wax old as doth a garment,and shall be changed." From this difference fol-

lows the "difference of signs," not unlike the dif-

ference in weather. Sea- and landman, who areboth dependent on the weather for sailing andagriculture, have learned from their youth uphow to observe these signs. Not as wonderfulsigns that had never been seen before. But evenas the preacher at Jerusalem taught: "That whichhas been is now; and that which is to be hathalready been" (Eccl. 3:15).

For the most part these "signs of the times"show themselves even as the signs in weather,solely in different degrees of strength with which

583

ordinary phenomena appear, and consequently in

their mutual relation. Whether in the evening thesky shows itself bright or dull red, depends uponthe greater or lesser density with which mists or

vapours place themselves between our eye andthe red glow of the setting sun. And so in theworld of spirits, an entirely distinct constellation

exhibits itself, according as the cloud of religion

pervades life with full weight or remains sus-*

pended, light and extremely transparent, over thewaters of life.

The difference in this respect between age andage is evident. In the age of the Reformationthe vast plea of religion filled almost all of life.

In the court room, in the cabinet of princes, in

public opinion, in the pulpit, in the market placeand especially in the family, religion was morethan anything else the decisive factor. Fromevery side it appeared in the heavens clear, fiery

red. Now compare with, this the eighteenth cen-tury. How dull its red was then. All its bright-

ness had waned, all warmth of religion was with-drawn to a single mystical group, and in publiclife religion was debased to trivial reasoning, toignorant self-conceit, laughter and scorn. Thencame the nineteenth century, brought to higherseriousness by revolution and Napoleonic wars,

and in the religious domain it furnished us threesigns: 1°, in the Christian domain and in a verylimited circle the Reveille; 2°, as a new find thequickly exhausted modern theology, and 3°, bythe side and on account of this, in the broaddomain of science, endless doubt and proudmaterialism, and among the upper classes, coldunbelief, a break with all religion.

684

In our twentieth century, however, the table

turns again. There is once more a reveille, butnot in the Christian domain. It is far more a

reveille of mystic, religious feeling, entirely inde-

pendent of Christianity, for the most part re-

jecting the way of truth and seeking ways of its

own, and thus of itself falling back into wayswhich man had discovered in earlier times.

Spiritism, theosophy, Buddhism are now the

desired articles. A few, though these are excep-tions, even turn to the Crescent again. What is

not observed, is return on a broad scale to theMan of Sorrows. People want to become relig-

ious, but they must be allowed to remain anti-

clerical. In the eighteenth century the slumber-ing. In the nineteenth the pouring out of thespirit of deep sleep. In the twentieth century agradual awakening of religion, but still dozing in

false, mystical dreams. The Christ and his Crossare passed by.The Pharisee does not observe such "signs of

the times" (see Matthew 16:3). He thinks andcontinues to think that everything within his

narrower circle is good and sound, and everythingoutside of it evil and unholy. And he does notsurmise even from afar the influence which thechange in the spirit of the times exerts upon himand upon his circle. The true disciples of Jesusdo not do so. They know better. They feel

and understand that in the spiritual domain alsothe waters of life continually merge into one an-other. They notice it in themselves and in theirfamihes and in their associates; they see how thegeneral conditions of spirits work effects on everyside. And with every new change they ask them-

585

selves what criticism this demands at their hands,and what duty this lays upon them.

They maintain their stand. They do this bythe grace that is within, and by the spiritual

impulse that operates in them. Though theyshould have to die for Jesus, they can not for-

sake his Cross. With ties that can not be loosedthe Cross lies bound on their heart. They feel

themselves as in an oasis, around which as far ase.ve can see grins the grey spiritual barrennessof the desert. In this oasis they rejoice. Therethey drink from the fountain of life and enjoythe bread, and shade of palm trees. They maketheir children enjoy it with them. They givethanks, they glory, they jubilate. But nothing in

them makes them boast of it. God Almighty hasbrought them to this oasis. Not because of anygood there was in them. They know themselvesin no particular better than anyone else. Eachday, rather, they dress again the bleeding woundof their own heart. It is grace and nothing butgrace. Grace, which in its entirety, never was any-thing but grace.

,

But the desert, round about this oasis, still con-cerns them. The sand waves from it fly upward.The hot wind travels ihrough it. And they whowander in this desert, are they not in manyinstances their fellow countr5-men3 not infre-

quently of their own family? Sometimes their

own friends. And apart from this, what talent,

what civic virtue, what noble sense glistens amongthese wanderers. Much that is low, much that is

common, much that is rough, it is true. Such are

the masses, but all are not such. And praj'er in

586

behalf of these wanderers, involuntarily, ascendsfrom their troubled hearts.

Even in the deepest parts of their inward life

they undergo the noticeable influence of this

change in the signs of the times. To be nearunto God and to continue there is far easier wheneverything around you warmly calls for the honorof God, than when the spirit of the times opposeseveiything holJ^ This was the holy secret of along period in the middle ages, the secret also of

the fifteenth and a part of the sixteenth century.Almost everything pressed after God's nearness.Rehgion was the atmosphere which was breathedof itself. Hence the overpious traditions fromboth these periods. But the thermometer hassince gone down. First it became cool, then cold,

then shivery. Everything broke down, everythingobstructed the way when the soul went out to

seek God's nearness. O, so much that blossomedbefore, now froze. Hence the search after God andapproach to his nearness demanded effort beforeunknown. It became a struggle. A climbing withhands and feet in order to ascend the holy moun-tain. And in addition to this, what mists still

interv'ene that cut off the outlook, what effort it

still takes to keep oneself standing above it. Andabove all, what painful distance extends betweenthis high mountain top and the world below atthe foot, which is still your world, and into whichyour daily task calls you.

True, there is gain. That which results fromthis continuous, serious, and holy effort, ' goesdeeper, is more enjoyable, and affords tendererblessedness. He who in spite of current andstorm drops anchor in the harbor, has higher joy

587

than he who has drifted with weather and windand tide. But it brings weariness. It wears onthe mind. And the aftermath of this exhaustioninvolves the danger that the spirit of the worldoutwits j^ou, and makes you dread still more anew course, which is attended with danger, per-

haps of death. If, then, forsooth, being nearunto God at such times is more blessed, thejoy of it is less permanent. And more times fol-

low of wandering away and of estrangement in

between.This unfavorable change in the signs of the

times also brings new duties. The captain whosafely made the harbor through curretit andstorm, can not be indifferent to the other sailors,

who, less fortunate than himself, outside still

struggle with death. Or, he who has reached theoasis, and quenches thirst and feasts, shouldnot be indifferent to the long caravan that still

wanders amid mortal dangers in the desert. Andyou, who by grace, and nothing but grace, re-

fresh yourself in the nearness of God, you shouldnot, can not, if rightly disposed, be selfishly indif-

ferent to the thousands and thousands who, lost in

byways, do not know Christ, do not understandthe cross, and therefore live without God in the

world. No hardness therefore for them, but Divinepity of soul. No pity that spitefully scorns andrepels, but pity that by courage invites, and as asacred magnet attracts. Never hide nor cloakyour religion. Never indulge in guilty silence or

behavior as though you were one of them. Neverpractice cowardice that deems itself love. . Butunderstand them. Enter into . their, condition.

Show them not your own wisdom, but your heart.

588

Always let them feel that you care for their

eternal welfare.

In order that you may do this, do not separateyourself, but take part in actual life. Be at homein what the things of the world, under God'sprovidence, provide of interest and beauty. Al-ways keep open a space where you can meetworldly people, discover yourself to them, andtalk with them. Truly, their estrangement canbecome ill will and resistance. A moment maycome, when, by forgetting yourself, you mightturn the holy into ridicule. And then breakingaway may become duty. But even as on the wayto the cross your Savior ever had his eye on theworld, and on the cross still prayed for forgivenessfor those who knew not what they did, so shouldthe eye of your seeking love be upon, and yourprayer continue in behalf of, those who havewandered from the fold of God. In this seekinglove and in this prayer you will have the surestsign that you are not mistaken, but that you your-self in all reality are near unto your God.

107

"WHEN I WAS A CHILD."

Our secret walk with the Eternal does not fol-

low a fixed, uniform model. That which presentsitself in this exceedingly holy and deeply spiritual

domain in an imitated form, arouses the suspicionof insincerity. Even in human fellowship all

friendship of a more intimate sort struggles tofree itself from the stress of conventional usage.Uniformity only prevails, and only may prevailin human intercourse when contact in broader

circles is superficial, which brings the kindly smileto the face, but does not evoke it from the heart.

Our life with God can not subject itself to themechanical. Even as in nature, the utterance of

life in the spiritual realm is organic. And as

every tree unfolds a different leaf, and every stema flower-bud of its own, so every human heartdiscloses itself to God in its own way, sings an ownsong unto God in an own tune, and in the secret

walk with the Almighty tastes an intimacy of

enjoyment which corresponds to the proper needof its own inner existence, and can not be enjoyedin just that way by any one else.

If anywhere, the apostolic word applies here:

"With one after this manner, and with anotherafter that." Sex exerts influence on this, andtemperament, conditions of life, nationality,

nature, disposition and character. And evenwhere these data show themselves almost exactly

alike in the members of the same family, there

is yet such a great difference in what is personalthat two brothers or two sisters only very rarely

exhibit entire likeness of appearance in their

mystic, religious nature.

A sharply marked difference with respect to

this shows itself not only between two or morepersons; a similar difference also shows itself withthe selfsame person. Your own sacred sensations

in your search after nearness to God are by nomeans always of like nature. It is evident that

they differ moreover in degree of distinctness of

impression. But that is not all. They also dif-

fer in character and nature. They are altogether

different in moments of intense joy from whatthey are in moments of dire need and great

690

anxiety. Robust health or wasting disease impartsan altogether different stamp to your inner exist-

ence. After victory over self in the hour of

temptation your fellowship with God is of anentirely different nature from what it is after

fainting in sin and fall. Under all this the heartis always the selfsame organ, but entirely different

combinations of registers are opened every time,

and constantly changing is the chord. And this

continuous changing and becoming different mustevery time be pointed out, because death reigns

supreme in imitation, in sameness, in uniformity,

and rich, full, blossoming life of godliness onlyrevels in endless variety and uniqueness.One difference can not be emphasized suffi-

ciently: to-wit, the difference in age. The apostle

describes it so accurately: "When I was a child,

I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I

thought as a child" (I Cor. 13:11). But it didnot continue so. Later it was altogether different:

"When I became a man, I put away childish

things." Consider carefully that the apostle men-tions this difference between the existence of achild and that of a man, when he treats of thepersonal knowledge, which we have of our God.The working of this difference, of course, is far

more delicate. For the sake of brevity the apostle

merely places the child by the side of the full-

grown man. It needs but a reminder, however,that the lad and the young girl exist differently

from the youth and the young maiden. That theman in the strength of his life is different fromthe man in his declining years, and that at the

end of the pilgrim journey the grey old managain presents an own image with own needs of

591

soul. And all these transitions in age and con-ditions of soul exert of themselves a necessary-

influence upon our communion life with God.What comes, develops itself from what wentbefore. Thus with the regular, undisturbed de-velopment of person there is a continual enrich-

ment, strengthening and deepening of personality.

Moreover every new phase of life adds to whatwent before a ne\Miess of utterance, even in suchstrong measures that the old man finds it difficult

to think himself back in the threatening struggle

of passions, in which he had to defend or torecover his fellowship with God. But thoughmodification, change and reforming of the secret

walk goes on until the end, Christ himself indi-

cated that with respect to this there is a striking

difference between the child and the man, whichlends an altogether proper type to the innerexistence of each; and neglect to recognize this

radical difference frequently ruins fundamentallythe Christian training.

Provided the family and other surroundingsdo not from the first choke the seed of religion

in a child, the mind of the child is religious. Notby pretension, but by receptivity for holy impres-sions and by silent reverence for the EternalBeing. To teach a child how to pray, when it

is done under Christian guidance, and in nomechanical way, is a beautiful and tender delight

of soul. This is not so because of his knowledgeof the holy. But because even when the child

can not yet read, and is far less able to follow thecatechism, let alone to understand it, he standsinstinctively related with the world of hiddenthings. He can give himself no account of this.

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He is not conscious of it, and therefore can notexplain it. But it is evident even from his fearin the dark, or at strange sights and sounds.This fear shows that the child knows and per-

ceives the existence of another world from thatwhich he sees with his eyes. Hence his faith inthe reality of the phantoms that create his fear.

This sense of the existence of a mysterious world,and the perception that this mysterious worldcan unveil itself, immediately governs the mindof the child. His delight in fables and fairy tales

is directly connected with this, and imparts tothe soul of the child that intensity and depthwhich addresses you so alluringly from his eye.And by this same trait the child instinctively

opens his heart to religion. It is an unseen work-ing that goes out from the unseen world upon theheart of the child. It is God himself who plaj's

the tender harp in the child heart. This naturalreligiousness of the child is more closely related

with the life of the blessed than the religion of uswho are full grown. With us a whole world of

thought, of reasoning and consequent doubt enters

in between, which is only lifted out again at ourdeath. Hence the word of Jesus, that "to becomeas a little child" is regeneration of our personwhich alone admits us into the kingdom of heaven.Nothing therefore is more cruel and painful

than to see a child abandoned to leading andtraining which has no understanding of this, andwhich treats the child as a small adult. Thiskills and destroys the childtype in the childheart.

Cruel and painful is the artificiality which teaches

the child to pray, but with a voice without tender-

ness, as a something that must be done, without

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praying with the child, so that the child feels

more disturbed in his religious impulses than led

and helped. It is equally cruel and painful, in

the presence of the child, to be unsympathetic,

rough and hard in holy things. This hurts the

heart of the child, and then it does not take long

for the tender germ of religion in the heart of the

child to be choked. It is cruel also to let the

years of childhood pass without training the child

in holy things, and to think that religion will

come somehow to him later on. The early years

of life are the appointed time in which to let the

foundation of all religion, which is fellowship with

God, crystallize in the heart of the child.

In the childheart there is natural receptivity

which, when it is led and trained in a reverent

way, imparts a bent to the heart whose effects

will be beneficial for all of later life. On the other

hand, if this is not cultivated, and this first recep-

tivity is destroyed, even though the religious

sense may awaken later on, it may always lack

that fervor and tenderness which Jesus demandsin our childlikeness.

This danger can only be averted by bringingthe child at once, in his own way, after his natureand type, into fellowship with God himself. Thechild should learn to know sacred history, thesacred truths of the faith, and hymns and sacredsongs. All this is excellent. But this will notavail unless first of all the child's instinctive per-

ception of a mysterious world unfolds into animmediate perception of his fellowship with the

all-seeing, all-knowing, omnipresent God.

B04

108

"MAKE ABODE WITH HIM."

The sublime note of joy with which the apos-tolate went out into the world, concentrated itself

in the confession: ''The Word was made flesh,

and dwelt among us." The Gospel did not first

come in Bethlehem, it resounded already in Para-dise, and both Moses and the prophets are ignored,when the gospel of grace is said to have begunwith the Apostles. Nay, rather the Israel of theProphets had the selfsame Gospel as we. Youneed but turn to the writings of New Testamentevangelists and apostles to find yourself again andagain referred back to the Old Testament, to see

the proof of the truth drawn from this ancient

source, and to find sharply outlined, and to us fre-

quently surprising, indications that the treasures

of the new covenant have been deposited agesago in the old covenant, even though at first in

germ form.No, the difference and the antithesis between

what lies before and after Bethlehem consist in

something else. There is undoubtedly a positive

and an absolute difference between the gospel

before and after the manger cradle. But this dif-

ference does not consist in greater or lesser riches

of the Old or New Testament gospel. No, theold and new covenant only differ in this respect,

that the Old Testament lacks the reality of the

New Testament. This was generally indicated byspeaking of the dispensations of shadows and of

fulfilment; but this statement is far too weak.The difference can be expressed more accurately

by- saying, that in the Old Testament the image

5^

is shown, but in the New Testament the reality

itself has appeared in the person of Christ. "Thelaw, which is given by Moses" (John 1:17) doesnot refer to the ten commandments. The lawhere is the name of the whole Old Testament,taken as an instruction, a revelation, a word of

God addressed to Israel. This word, revelation,

instruction which God gave in figure, began to

assume a form with Moses. But when Bethlehemsees the birth of the Holy Infant, somethingentirely different appears. It is no more instruc-

tion and announcement, but it is truth that is

given. And in this connection truth means whatwe call reality. The image is not the truth, theshadow is not the truth. Image and shadow in

themselves are unreal. That which is true onlycomes, when in tangible reality he appears, whoseimage has been seen from afar, and whose Divineshadow has fallen upon Israel.

Therefore the Apostles emphatically declaredthat they had seen Jesus, that they had heardhim, that they had handled him. They empha-sized the fact that now the Word has received

flesh, i. e. reality in the earthly. This empha-sized no less the fact that Jesus has been foretold

that he has appeared at times, and that he hasvanished again, but that at last he has come in

full reality, and that from Bethlehem to Gol-gotha he has dwelt among us.

To dwell in a place is really and permanentlyto tarry there. Not merely to come, but also to

stay. Not to turn in for the night a single time,

but continuously and permanently to reveal one's

presence in one. place. God. dwells in heaven andhis abode is in the light. But though the Scripture

declares that God dwells in the high and lofty

place, it immediately adds that this same Godlooks down upon the children of men on earth.

Heaven and earth are not intended to be sep-

arated, but to form a higher unity, so that the

Lord our God dwells siinultaneously both in

heaven and on earth. It began like this. Goddwelt in Paradise and originally the fellowship of

man with God and of God with his creature wasvery real and unbroken. The separation only

came when by sin man expelled God from this

earth, drove him out of his own creation andfrom fellowship with his own most exalted crea-

ture. But God takes no pleasure in this. Expelled

by sin, he returns in seeking grace. "Adam, whereart thou?" is the call of God, with which he re-

turns, and claims his world again.

At length God regains his abode on the earth.

Provisionally in the cloud, in the column of fire

and in the tabernacle, but fully symbolical onZion. "This is my habitation. This is my rest,"

said the Lord, "here will I dwell" (Ps. 132:14).

Zion by the side of Bashan indicates that God is

still expelled from the world at large, but that in

Zion he has prepared a place of rest for himself,

an oasis of grace, a habitation of his^ own. Thissacred symbolical return of God to this worldprophesied age upon age in advance the glorious

Bethlehem event. And when at length the full-

ness of time is come, and the Babe is born in

Bethlehem, God no longer dwells symbolically in

Zion, but in full reality in Christ. And therefore

the Apostles preach with so much delight that

God has been revealed in the flesh, and that re-

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vealed in the flesh, i. e. in reality he has dweltamong us.

Hence Bethlehem is the real and actual returnof God to earth, in order here on earth permanentlyto dwell with us and among us. This is the restora-tion of what was real in Paradise. And does this

end with Golgotha, or if you please, with theascent into heaven? By no means. For God todwell on earth is only possible in the fullest sensethrough Golgotha and the Ascension. BetweenBethlehem and Golgotha there was real dwellingof God upon earth, but in the most extremelylimited sense. A dwelling which was confined toone people, and which among that one people waslimited to the narrow circle of those who followedJesus. The promise, however, ran, that Godwould dwell on earth among all peoples, in all

parts of the world, and that he would be approach-able from age to age by every soul that fearedhim.And this full, extended, unlimited, permanent,

ever continuous, and ever self-expanding dwellingof God among the children of men was only pos-sible when Jesus was no longer seen and heard,and handled among one people, in a narrow circle,

but when he was elevated to the throne of graceand glorified. From thence he could extend his

working to every people and to every heart. Forthis reason he declares in the hearing of his dis-

ciples: "It is expedient for you that I go away,"and also adds: "When I shall have gone away, I

shall come again, and with the Father make myabode in you" (John 14:23).

Thus there is a threefold dwelling of God onearth. First, symbolical in Israel on Zion. After

that the reality of the flesh, when Jesus walkedabout on the earth. And now, in the third place,

the dwelling of God among us and in us in all

parts of the earth. Our heart is made a dwellingplace of God in the Spirit. Our heart is the real

Zion, and therefore our redeemed human heart is

the temple in which he dwells. Sin expels God.In grace, God resolves to come back and to dwellagain among us and in us. This constitutes all

the mysticism of real, godly religion. Religiondoes not begin with this. It rather begins withan outward confession; with knowing God only as

one who lives above, and is always conscious of afatal distance between self and the Most HighGod.But grace for grace gradually works modification

in this, and makes internal what began with beingexternal. To have the Spirit, is to have God him-self in one's own heart, to carry him about in

one's own soul, and the new commandment of

brotherly love is nothing but the commandment,that as you carry God about in your own heart,

you should discover that same God dwelling in

the heart of the brother, and that you should join

heart to heart, because that selfsame God fills the

heart of each. But although this is so, most peo-ple are afraid to face it. Though God dwells in

their heart, they every time put him back into

the corner of their heart. Thus they becomeaware again of distance, and for the greater part

withdraw their heart from God. And this is thesin of the saints.

But grace holds on. God will not let you go.

From the corner of the heart in which you holdhim back, he comes every time again to capture

699

a part of your heart, till at length you throw upyour hands, open your whole heart to him, andnow experience with joy that he really in Christ

has made his abode in you. This is the contin-

uous Christmas gospel. Not a Christmas gospel

that remains standing by the manger, but suchan one as passes over from the manger into yourown heart. First the jubilant note of the aposto-late : "The Word was made flesh and dwelt amongus." And then the song of praise on the part of

God's saint: "The Word was made flesh, and hastaken up his abode in mine own heart."

109

"WHOM HAVE I IN HEAVEN BUTTHEE?"

Refreshment of grace is particulaily rich whenalso in departing from this world the soul is priv-

ileged to be near unto God. On the death-bedhighest bliss has often been enjoyed. Many havedeparted, not only strong in faith and in higher

clearness of mind, but also with the foretaste of

heavenly joy. No rule can be made for this.

A blessed death-bed is not alwaj^s the reward of

holier-mindedness and of deeper spirituality. Adeath bed that enhances the glory of God has notinfrequently been the portion of one who in life

had wandered far away from his Lord. And onthe other hand painful distress has been witnessed

on the part of those who for many years hadknown the secret walk with God.As a rule this depends upon all sorts of things

that have nothing to do with a devout frame of

mind and heart. First upon age, temperament,

600

the nature of disease, degree of weakness, state ofnerves, freedom of speech or diffidence, and uponthe longer or shorter period of dying. In part, it

also depends upon the physician. Whether he con-ceals the certainty, or at least the probability ofthe approaching end, or whether frankly and hon-estly he acquaints the patient with the exact stateof things. Again it depends upon family andfriends, and upon those who care for the sick,

whether they are spiritually inclined, and assist

the patient in holy meditations, or whether theyprovide so-called diversion and vex him withmultifarious earthly concerns.

If it happens that all this co-operates for good,and that he who is about to appear before Godlies for a few days at least with a waiting heartat the gate of eternity, watching for its openingunto him, and meanwhile bearing witness to thepower of everlasting life, sometimes in termswhich far excel ordinary speech—then specialgrace operates in such a dying person. The Lordtruly imparts this special grace to comfort hisdying saint, but mostly to glorify himself, and tocause a testimony of striking power to go outfrom so glorious a death-bed.The desire to pose as a saint is a sin which in

its more refined forms cleaves to all religion. It

has even been observed in martyrs. This desirewould be more generally in evidence if the Lord Goddid not prevent it by weakness and disease. Andin this prevention of making a show of one's pietywe are bound to appreciate grace. But some-times dying grace shows itself in a higher form,'when . soniething of almost prophetic inspirationtakes hold of a dying saint. This was strongly

601

evident in the case of Jacob the patriarch. Butthough in lesser measure, occasionally such higherinspiration is still witnessed among us when it is

not merely a dying in faith, not merely a falling

asleep in Jesus, but when fully awake and withopen eye it is a triumphant passing through thegate of eternity. In such a case there is clear

consciousness, and from it a holy testimony, be-cause he who dies knows and feels until his latest

breath, that he is near unto God.But from this it may not be inferred that a less

triumphant death implies that the soul was de-prived of God's nearness. Bodily weakness all toooften affects the mind, so that little is observedfrom without of what inwardly takes place in thespirit. God is able to do, O, so much in and for

the soul of which a third person can have noknowledge. When an infant is carried from thecradle to the grave, no one can say that Godwas not able to minister grace to him. But noone saw anything of it. The little one himselfknew nothing about it. The same can take place

in sleep. Would anyone say, that while we sleep,

God's ministry is excluded for seven or eight

hours from our heart? In great sickness some-times one can be unconscious for several daystogether. Would God, then, all those days standpowerless before this disabled soul? The pointin case of the infant, in sleep or in sickness is,

that gracious ministry can take place on the part

of the Holy Ghost, which through physical causes

can not be observed from without, but remainsconcealed within.

This physical hindrance occurs in most cases byfar when the end draws near. Most strongly ixj

the case of those who die unconsciously in aswoon; sometimes very strongly with the sick,

whose pulse is almost gone, and whose breath canscarcely be felt. And of these no one may saythat, on account of this, their soul passed awayin secret, and was estranged from God. Omnip-otence and grace are able to do in holy secrecywhat can not be observed by human eye or ear.

The consciousness of him who died dependedfrom the nature of the case upon the strengththat still operated in his brain. But suppose thebrain refused, should the inner life of the soul

on this account be deprived of grace? Presentlythe brain shall refuse to function altogether, whenwithout a clouded mind the soul shall know andglorify God. "To be near unto God" in dying, evenif not discerned by any outside person is nothingelse than already an entrance here in part uponthat which after death becomes altogether andwholly so; the beginning of the new condition,

when separated from the body, entirely incor-

poreal, our person is and companies with God.But apart from this, while we continue our

pilgrim journey on earth, the Divine ministries in

behalf of the dying are deeply significant to us

as a memento mori. This is what Asaph's mes-sage implied: ''Whom have I in heaven butThee?" (Ps.73:25). By itself this means to knownothing in heaven but God. which is quite thesame as to love God with all the mind and soul

and heart. But Asaph's question puts the matterstill more clearly before us. The struggle of ourheart on earth is, that it goes out after all sorts of

things, including God. This struggle is laid uponus, inasmuch as God himself has related our heart

603

to all sorts of persons on earth, and has endowedit with powers to appreciate the glories of nature,

and has imparted all sorts of inclinations and call-

ings to us, which go out after visible things. TheStylist who withdraws his ej'es from all earthly

things, so that with nothing about him but air

he might seek after God, evades the struggle andbecomes unnatural. The holy art of the child

of God is to possess things that are seen andhandled in such a way, that he can truly say, thatnothing on earth pleases him but God. This onlymeans to say, that he only regards all visible

things as things which are of God, and exist for

the sake of God, and must serve God. Thus his

pleasure in God embraces and includes all theseother things. But in such a way that they areonly considered insofar as they are subjected to

God, and as they reveal his Divine power.

Whether in deed and in truth this is the case

with us, becomes evident only in dying. Forthen all these things fall away from us, and Godalone remains. It has been tried to transfer

earthly desires into heaven, by picturing all sorts

of other persons and means of enjoyment there

by the side of God. Mohammedans go farthest

in this. But among Christians not a few regardheaven first of all in connection with their owndead, that there they might resume with themthe former life. Thus even in heaven they imaginea whole world again by the side of God. Thisconfuses the spirits. For he alone who in dyingexpects nothing in heaven but God, shall also find

in the Fatherhouse, through and under God, that

other holy fellowship. But this shall have no

604

other purport than the better to glorify the Godand Father of all in Christ.

This same thing must here be applied to oursecret walk with God. We must frequently askourselves: If you had nothing, absolutely noth-ing aside from God, would your soul be perfectly

satisfied? When you seek and endeavor andstrive to be near unto God, is it that you mightrest in him with all your heart, or is it perhapsmerely that you might find in him the helper,

who can give you all sorts of other desired thingsafter which your heart goes out really the morestronglj'^? Let no one complain that he who hasGod and him alone, has nothing but God. Forhe who has God in him has everything. But that3'ou might test the sincerity of your own personalpiety, you should know for yourself whether youare so concerned about God, that though all otherthings are added, you are intent upon him alone.

Or, whether your heart really seeks the otherthings, and in addition to them God, throughwhose help you might obtain them the moresurely. Or finally, whether you want to becomea partaker of God and with him of the otherthings?And in behalf of this test, anticipation of the

hour of death has uncommon value. That youimagine to yourself the moment when everythingon earth shall fall away from you, and as far asyou are concerned, shall cease to exist. Thatwhether, when you enter upon the thought thatyou will have nothing in heaven forever but theTriune God, it lifts your heart up to the highestforetaste of holy joy, in the sense that in all

honesty you can say that it is good for you "to

605

be near unto God", because you have nothingbeside him in heaven, and because you desirenothing beside him on earth, all the days of

your pilgrim journey that still remain.

110

"AS THE HART PANTETH AFTER THEWATER BROOKS."

More than twenty centuries have not been ableto darken the golden glow of the immortal songthat has come to us in Psalm 42. And with all

the bitter estrangement from God that character-izes human life, the priests of art still unite withthe redeemed of the Lord in giving the song of

"The hart that panteth after the water-brooks"a place which is far above every other l)Tic thatvoices the deep longing of the human heart after

the fountain of all blessing. The passion thatthrills in this Psalm, the enthusiasm that breathesin this glorious song is striking. Our most blessedexperience is "To be near unto God." And in theface of distraction and temptation, our fainting

soul can turn away from the world unto God, in-

asmuch as a voice whispers within that he whoforsakes God robs his own heart of peace.

We have often turned to God and have knockedat the door, to be admitted again to the secret

walk with God, after we had made the discoveryin hours or days of wandering, that the joy of theworld is vain and that its glory is deceptive. Atanother time we have, as it were, allowed ourheart to be taken to God by one who "holy andhumble of heart" allured us back to God. Atanother time again, either a wounded heart or

606

some great anxiety, or want in which we almost

perished, impelled us to seek aid and comfort with

God in his holy nearness. The paths by which

the heart comes to God wind themselves through

all the parts of our life. And however often they

are abandoned, these paths every time disclose

themselves anew. But in all this there is no play

of sacred ardor. In such moments if left to itself

the heart would rather not incline toward God.And it is either an inward necessity or a stimulus

from without, that drives the half-unwilling andself-suflBcient heart to God.But in this Psalm the heart drives itself. Irre-

sistible longing after the living God arises not

from without, but from within the heart itself.

It is not from an accidental circumstance, not from

a cause which operates from elsewhere, not fromthe promptings of conscience, not from urgency

of need, neither from prudence nor calculation,

but from the new nature itself, from the regen-

erated nature of the heart, that the longing after

God, the sense of inability to do without God,the impetuous hastening after the living God,springs. Even Augustin's exclamation: "My heart

is restless, till it rests in thee," pales before this

fervor. For here it is thirsting. Here it is thirst-

ing after the living God, even as a man or a brute,

whose blood through exhaustion is dried up, not

merely calls for moisture, but cries out aloud for

the same, as far as the parched palate and husky

throat still allow this to be done with audible

sound. The figure is borrowed from the animal-

world, where mention is impossible of a moment'sconsideration, pious purport or intentional call-

ing. From the hart, which exhausted and dis-

607

abled cries as in despair, because having at last

reached the stream-bed finds that there is nowater there, and which now, from the mereimpulse of nature, because it is ready to suc-

cumb, and is unable longer to go without drink,

breaks the air with its desperate cry for waterin the dried-up bedding; because presently it mustfaint if water does not come.This impulse of nature, this passionate desire,

this almost dying of thirst after God on the part

of the soul, this consuming longing after the living

God, is the exalted, striking, enchanting char-

acter of this Psalm, which at the same time putsus to shame. For how many have been themoments in your life when, without the pressure

of need, or solicitation from another, or sting of

conscience, from a purely natural impulse of soul

you have thirsted after the living God? You feel

and appreciate, in listening to these moving tones,

in singing yourself this glorious song, that not onlyat times, but always, this ought to be the state

of the heart; that God created you for this pur-

pose; that his plan concerning you intended suchglorious longing in you after God; that everytime this plan ceased to operate in you, you fell

from the heights of your nature; and that yousin against grace, when at least in your rebornnature this pressure, this thirst, this intense long-ing for the living God can be silent.

As through exhaustion blood cries for water,

and utterly fails unless relieved, so we have re-

ceived a nature from God which, normal andunhurt, must cry after God or faint. Piety whichat times imagined that it already stood strong

and secure, here feels itself sink away, because it

608

has so seldom attained unto this passion, this

consuming longing after God. It is your holyexaltation, a solemn seal upon your human nobility,

that your nature has so been created that such

may be the case and can be. It is at the sametime a deep humiliation that this nobility of

higher origin so rarely exhibits itself in the full-

ness of its strength. But it is also a stimulus

which leaves you no rest, which makes you turnin upon yourself and think, and which, underthese changing perceptions, makes the thirst after

the living God to be felt, and as soon as it is felt,

makes its quenching to be experienced in 0, sucha blessed way, because God draws near unto yoursoul.

"So panteth my soul after Thee, God.My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God."That 'iiving" also is here an image of nature.

There is stagnant water, which is dead, and be-comes marshy and poisonous, and is unfit to re-

fresh man and animal. The hart therefore pantethnot merely after water, but after the water-brooks, i. e. after the fresh, murmuring, flowingwater that lives. *'And thus," says the Psalmist,"panteth my soul, yea thirsts my soul after theliving God." Not merely after a confession of

God, not merely after a representation of God,not merely after a reminder of God, not evenafter a Divine majesty, which far removed fromthe soul stands before it as a God in words or in

phrases, but after God himself, after God in his

holy outpouring of power and grace, after Godwho lives, after God who in his life inclines him-self toward you, who with his life pervades you,

and who in holy manifestations of love reveals

himself to you, and in you, as the living God.You realize that here all learning falls away;

all dogma, all formularies, everything that is ex-

ternal and abstract; everything that translates

itself into words, that in the word it may dry upand wither. It is not your idea, not your under-standing, not your thinking, not your reasoning,

not even your confession, that can quench this

thirst. This ardent longing goes out after Godhimself, until in your soul's transport of love, youfeel in your own heart the warmth of the Father-heart of God. It is not the name of God, but Godhimself whom the soul thirsts after, and of whomit can not bear to be deprived; God himself in

the outshining of his life. And this outshining of

his life must permeate you. It must be assimi-

lated in the blood of your soul.

The Psalmist sought this in the Sanctuary. Hewas from Israel. And in Israel the clear, rich,

full enjoyment of God's presence was confined

to Zion. God had chosen Zion as the place wherehe would give himself to be enjoyed in this full-

ness by his people. At that time the life of the

world drew itself too mightily away from God.Idol upon idol filled the world. And therefore

the presence of the Lord was symbolically cen-

tered between the cherubim on Zion. To trans-

fer this to the congregations in church-buildings

in our behalf is to cut the nerve of this Psalm.For though there is indeed much in our sanctu-

aries that draws us to God, and much in the

world and even in our homes that draws us awayfrom God, this again would prove itself to bethe stimulus from without. And what this Psalm

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intends, is thirst in the heart itself, which fromthe blood of the soul cries after God,Zion is not your prayer cell. Zion is not your

church building. Zion is not even your Christianassociation. What Israel found on Zion symboli-cally is for us reality in Christ; in your Vindi-cator and King, himself God, to whom be gloryboth now and forever, Amen.He who is redeemed is in Christ, and Christ is

in him. As living member he has wonderfully beenincorporated in the mystical body of Christ. Hisregenerated nature has most intimately becomeone with Christ, and in this mystical life withChrist alone, the heart that thirsts after God,drinks in the life from God, And therefor "'to benear unto God, *'yea. the drinking in of the life of

God with all the passion, all the thirst of oursoul, is not bound for us to any place, to nopresence of others, to no day, to no altar and to

no priest. Every place, wheresoever, can at anymoment become a Zion to us. It but depends onthis one thing: that God is approached in him in

whom alone there is access, and who ever iiveth

to make intercession for us (Hebr. 7:25).

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